kernels

 

My dear madam:

au contraire..

inamoratas fans hangers’ on

call them what you may but

I serve them I give them gist

on which to feed and kernels through

which to sort where upon finding the

right one they pick it up roll it around in

fingers soft with longing and desire rounding

off rough edges warming it smoothing it 

into a piece of cast gold desirous of an 

impression deep enough to accommodate my

flesh from which they pull strips as I scream my

other self through a bullhorn while they bite deeper 

and swallow their chosen bits and I sink exhausted into

a pliable heap diminished by one third but replenished 

by my ego

©kcasady2017