I too confess along with Sylvia
First, are you our sort of a person?
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I a smiling woman.
I am your valuable,
In my Victorian nightgown.
Pure? What does it mean?
The sheets grow heavy as a lecher’s kiss.
The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin.
Drip and thicken, tears
O love, how did you get here?
Photo credit Everett