Distant Shores

You dream

yourself

bound in meaty

ribbons of my

feminine vapours,

steaming in

the hothouse

of my cunt.

To keep me

in your

mind's eye,

you fuck

the cold sea

between us.

It is only

the prospect

of your

inevitable

ejaculation

that keeps

you warm.

We will always

be separate.

You cannot curl

in upon yourself

anemone-like.

Where you spend,

I conserve

swallowing

the whole

hole of my

pleasure

enraptured

musculature of

my induction.

I do not spurt

or need to add

to the failed

posibilities.

Your desperate

attempts to

avoid death

in my womb

are futile.

Nothing grows here

but what I allow.

And I will nurture

no more versions

of you.