Sealed with a Kiss

I'm sick of talking.

No one is listening anyway.

But my blood's pumping, and has one thing to say:

THIS IS NOT A DRESS REHEARSAL.

The world pre-historically and hence

is absolutely fucking brutal.

But we can't know any of that from the drooling favor and cool air
of our padded cells, now can we.

Aren't you people bored at all? With living in this dream state
not seeing or feeling or fucking or killing
Anything around you?
More so, not loving neither?
Love cowers from us like a golden fawn at the doorway to slaughter.

And we just let it sit there, pissing itself.  While we look into our dead eye lights
and think ourselves masters of this tiny universe.

If I  have to butcher, give birth to, fuck, slay and redeem
each and last one of your fuckers with my remaining breaths...
I'll say yes and do so with a smile.
And my hips shaking like destiny, when you pass me by.

There's no holding out against circumstance.

And it's wonderful to not fear Anything.  Learn it someday, won't you?

The glory of knowing full well your name.


M. Lucia