BLUE LIP BLACK WITCH-CUNT: MY SISTER, MY SISTER
MY SISTER, MY SISTER
ONE I CALL SISTER IS JADED, UNABLE TO AFFECT THE HEAVY BURDEN OF HER BLACKNESS AND HER SPECIFICITY IN A WORLD IN WHICH SHE IS CONSTANTLY DEALT UNREQUITED INFATUATION AS A SUPPOSEDLY LEGITIMATE FORM OF ROMANTIC ENGAGEMENT, BOUND TO THE MEANING OF HER COLORED BODY. SHE FEARS THAT MY OPTIMISM IS AGAINST MY BEST INTENTIONS, THAT I AM TOO EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL FOR THE QUEENS IN MY LIFE WHO ULTIMATELY SUBJECT ME TO THE CAPRICIOUS WHIMS OF THEIR UNCHECKED BOYISH IMPULSES AND DICKS. I THINK HER HOPE HAS BEEN ALL BUT COMPLETELY SUFFOCATED BY WHITE GAY MEN. WHICH IS NOT TO SAY THAT MINE HASN’T TO A CERTAIN DEGREE. AT TIMES IT SEEMS TOO MUCH TO HANDLE. THE REALITY-CHECK MOMENTS WHERE I AM HALTED BY THE REALITY THAT MY AGENCY IS CREATIVE, PERFORMATIVE, SOCIAL CULTURAL, ARTISTIC AND DEFINITIVELY NOT SEXUAL. THERES MUCH IN COMMON BETWEEN BLACK QUEENS (OF A CERTAIN TYPE) AND T-GURLS IN THE GAY WORLD: BOTH EXCEL IN SPITE OF THEIR LABOR-SATURATED BODIES. BOTH EXIST AS ORNAMENTS TO THE IDEALIZED QUEER-AS-FOLK BABYLON ANONYMOUS WHITE MEN AND THEIR ETHNIC-TOP COUNTERPARTS FREELY ENGAGING IN A REWORKING OF THE GARDEN OF EDEN. THE COLLECTIVE REPRESSION SUBLIMATED IN A SLOPPY GROUP TÊTE-À-TÊTE THAT FINDS IS MOST ELABORATED EXPRESSION IN A PRIVATE ALL-MALE AA BRONSON ‘SEANCE’ AND ITS MOST DEBASE FORM IN THE CLOCK-STRIKES-DICK SHITTY FAGGOTRY OF EASTERN BLOC, METROPOLITAN, AND THE LIKE THAT ENSUES AFTER 3:00AM. ON OUR LESS-THAN-IDEAL NIGHTS, MY SISTER(S) AND I STEP BACK, OBSERVE AND VOLUNTARILY BECOME PART OF THE UPHOLSTERY OF THE SWEAT SOAKED BAR FURNITURE. MY SISTER, MY SISTER I BEG OF YOU TO HOPE IN SPITE OF IT ALL.
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PRINCESS JULIANA
PRINCESS JULIANA
THE PRINCESS OF A COURT OF FAGGOTS, WHO PROTECT, SUPPORT, AND SEDUCE THEIR GURLS AS FATHERS. THE INCEST TABOO FINDS ITS MOST QUEER MANIFESTATION IN AN IMPULSE AWAY FROM CROSSING THE PHYSICAL BOUNDARY THAT IS IMPLIED BY THEIR PROXIMITY AND FAMILIAL ASSOCIATIONS. SHE IS THERE TO SERVE HER FATHER, EVERY INTERACTION SATURATED IN THE SEXUALITY SO APPARENT IN THE PORTRAITURE OF THEIR APPEARANCE TOGETHER, THE IMAGE THEY PERFORM RITUALISTICALLY. SOME FATHERS VIOLATE THE TABOO, IN ESSENCE OR LITERALLY. THEIR GURLS ARE LEFT IN A TRAUMATIC GREY ZONE, PTSD POST THE INDULGENCE THAT GOES AGAINST THE ESSENTIAL STRUCTURE OF THE GAY WORLD. THE PRINCESS OF THE COURT MUST REMAIN ALONE, TO BE RECYCLED IN PHOTOS, HUGS, KISSES. THE MOLESTATION OF FATHERS WHO TOUCH AND EXPOSE HER BREASTS IN THE PRIVATELY OWNED SPACES OF FAMILY GATHERINGS, DOCUMENTED IN VARIOUS SOCIAL MEDIA. WHO GROPE, BITE, AND FEEL HER UP. THE MENTAL CONTROL OF FATHERS WHO WHISPER IN HER EAR, WHO BUILD UP A WORLD OF DESIRE ONLY TO HAVE IT TORN DOWN IN THE NAME OF COLLECTIVE SAME-SEX MARRIAGE PARENTHOOD. FATHERS FUCK FATHERS. DAUGHTERS ARE RAISED BY FATHERS TO SEXUALIZE THEMSELVES, ONLY TO BE REFUSED ACCESS TO THE WORLD THAT DESIRES THEM. IN HER LACE EASTER DRESS, THE PRINCESS IS ALONE, DEFORMING LOLITA DAY-IN AND DAY-OUT. SPREADING HER LEGS AND SUCKING A LOLLIPOP FOR DADDY, BUT DADDY DOES NOT WANT HER, NOR DOES HE WANT HER TO HAVE ANYONE ELSE. SHE IS LEFT IN HER ROOM, TO FANTASIZE ABOUT A PRINCE WHO WILL NEVER COURT HER, UNLESS HE ADOPTS HER AS HIS OWN, A FATHER REMOVED-A FATHER ENTITLED.
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QUEENS POSING IN PICTURES WITH T-GURLS AND BLACK SHE-QUEENS FOR BUTCH QUEEN TRADE-ATTRACTING AFFECT. AN IMAGE IN WHICH SHE IS CAPTURED AS AN IMAGE AND HE IS ENDOWED THE DESIRABILITY OF THE ROLE HE PERFORMS; HUSBAND, FATHER, PROTECTOR, LIKELY TO GRUNT DURING SEX. SHE MOVES ON TO THE NEXT PHOTO WITH THE NEXT QUEEN, HE MOVES ON TO THE NEXT QUEEN WITH A KING COCK. AT THE END OF THE NIGHT, SHE COLLECTS HER CHECK AND TAKES A CAR HOME SO AS TO AVOID THE POTENTIAL TRAUMA OF THE TRAIN. HE DECIDES WHICH OF THE QUEENS MESMERIZED BY THE IMAGE HE WILL CHOOSE TO INDULGE IN THE FLESH. WETHER OR NOT HE GRUNTS IS UNKNOWN. SHE, FOR SURE, WILL BE GOING HOME ALONE.
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THE ONE I CALL LOVER BIT INTO MY INSECURITIES, SPAT ON MY WORK, AND...
THE ONE I CALL LOVER BIT INTO MY INSECURITIES, SPAT ON MY WORK, AND THEN DISAPPEARED WITH NO WORD. HIS EYES GREW ACCUSTOMED TO THE ROUTINE OF OUR PRIVATE RITUALS - HE IS UNABLE, UNWILLING OR SIMPLY DOESN’T WANT TO SHARE OR KNOW THE PAINS, THE EXCITATION AND THE MOVEMENTS OF THE WORLD ON WHICH MY DREAMS REST. THE SAME WORLD THAT TREMBLED AS I SAT ON THE TRAIN THIS MORNING ALONE AS MEN LICKED THEIR LIPS AND DRUNKENLY LET ME KNOW THEIR INTENTIONS. MY LOVER IS ABSENT, PERHAPS LIVING THE UNRESTRAINED LIFE OF A BUTCH QUEEN FREE TO BE HIMSELF, TO INDULGE THE ANONYMOUS INTERACTIONS WITH THOSE IN THE SAME POSITION (HOMO-SEXUAL) I HAVE APPARENTLY RESTRICTED HIM OF ACCESS TO.
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