a sword hangs by a hair        above my throne        this is where i lay     
i make love so hard        the ceiling shakes         i am naked 

        as a dog's belly           upturned         the sword is alternating 

  between        my still chest &        the surge of blood   
anything becomes        a pendulum        when made to swing
   sex is        a counting game     

                                                       when blades draw forth

     what fingers can't give me        i séance hands        like knives into the room     

they want to fuck        i dare them        to grab my curls     

      i want them       to break        to fall

 to the bed        i want to count        every way        

a hair can sever        and surrender        to gravity