Offensive Good Senses

Asked if God complexes have preassigned sexes,
you replied they’re effeminate enough to
want it rough
but a man in stature, they’re looking for
an easy fuck.

Headstrong like a woman,
stubborn as their
male counter
parts, nothing
quite equals the
testosterone
of broken trust.

Sharks smelling blood
ain’t limited to
weapons between
the legs.

Darlin’, don’t
make me beg you not to
dress in drag so that you
can prove
a point.

I’ll be your boy slave,
kissing Bibles on Sunday,
mindfuck toy the
other six.

I don’t know if playing
God has its setbacks, like most
other forms of psychosis, or it’s
some Freudian
schadenfreude but
I’ll continue playing coy if your
creationisms
avoid the preaching.

There’s so few parables worth
teaching here, loving thy neigbours
is the killjoy
to degenerate ploys
when the succubus
is playing saviour.

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4 thoughts on “Offensive Good Senses

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