What makes you feel good?

Put your body in my hands—there is nothing 

for you to hide here—

I will moderate it all for you.

I will make the world soft under your skin, the air

sweet in your lungs. My sweat, my cum

laces up your hands, find me in the corners of your eyes

and your mouth. 

They have called me succubus. They have called me witch.

I would burn the world down for

the pleasure of your body. KNOW this.

Feel knowledge of me warming your back in ten

tracks, there is nothing 

to keep here. Beloved visitor, tourist with a hungry soul.

I will open it all for you.

I bleed comfort for you, birth the old glory

of your joy in my bed. 

Cunt, they have called me, and meant it.

Tell me again—lips close to my ear, feel me

hot against the veins in your neck—

what makes you feel good?