No man wants to enter something so
slick that could slip so seamlessly
from under a body scented of
muck and sweat.

No man wants to enter a mouth
fanged
flaying back flesh

No man wants to enter a woman
skin like barracks
mounds of dead skin
rubbed black and pilling.

No man wants to enter a shape
so much
like
his own.

this poem appears in the chapbook MON (monuments monarchs & monsters) from Sputnik & Fizzle Chapbook Series in partnership with ATLAS Projectos