amfoo

An elephant through the eye of a needle I see only what is present now. A pin through the back of a scarab beetle, Twisting and writhing against its death. The pin is pushed, farther still Deeper into the beetle’s gut. A cry would ring out, if it could shriek, But all is silent, outpours its blood. The reaper waits until the moment When the beetle finally exhausts The last of its will to continue thrashing And the hope of repentance is quite lost. A spine twisted and ripped and torn A silent breath of lover’s scorn A move to find a place alone A drug and then your mind is blown. Aphrodisiacs, masochism, sadism, sodom