Velveteen

Get an independent opinion.
The exasperating consecrations.
Abound, in leaps and bounds.
Bound? You are.
There's a flow here, a sanguinary flow.
You can't stem the tide
at the source
for it is within.

She wanders in,
pronoun.
Fluttering womb,
flux.
There's a lot of garbage to sift though,
she says,
as she reaches for your toxins.
There's a lot to be done,
she says,
as she removes her shirt.

Pressed flesh, pressed flesh.
The smell of honest sweat.
And the words that have to be written.
Reference yourself.
Back up your sources,
and you might be alright.

Declaim your gibberish, you fool.
Denounce, decry - separate yourself.
This may tarnish.
Visceral and vital and wrong.
You are alone, isolated.
Unloved.

What are you saying?
What aren't you saying?
Why aren't you praying?

It goes unheeded.
So heed it yourself.
What do you want?
Take it.

TAKE IT.