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shillelagh law (joneal) wrote,
@ 2007-12-13 15:22:00
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    Spheres
    In youth, we first learn to wield the hammer,
    smashing all things subtle like childish gods.
    We only know to take what we want most
    like the heart that’s confused love with fucking
    or the soul believing obsession’s worship-
    our child minds lack the grace to win with words.

    She was enamored with words
    yet used them as a hammer
    to fell bodies of worship.
    She had no use for tame gods-
    what did they know of fucking?
    She knew so much more than most.

    Later; fired by passion, we crave lust most,
    while struggling to define this drive with words.
    We care not for the sheep and their fucking
    mundane course, we’d as soon take a hammer
    to their skulls, breaking them like vengeful gods,
    laughing at their mewing pleas of worship.

    He took easily to worship
    and she could love him- almost.
    He thought her a gift of god’s,
    content to bleed for her words,
    act anvil to her hammer,
    clueless it was just fucking.

    In the end we wonder at the fucking
    mess we’ve made and ponder whether worship
    would’ve proven more worthwhile to hammer
    at than being so hedonistic most
    of our remembered moments and if words
    weren’t better spent in whispered pleas to gods.

    She thought if she could shape gods
    she’d devote one to fucking,
    one with no need of cruel swords,
    saw orgasm as worship,
    smiting ones who need it most
    like Thor with a cock hammer.

    How we hammer away at playing gods
    with whiskey and words; with gut-felt fucking
    and idle worship while love's lacking most


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