Sure that there was an attainable bliss somewhere beyond the decimal point in the p of his sexual trysts, I felt that maybe he had already attained what I was looking for, a more instinctual regard for sex, an equality among thirsts. He had done what I wanted to do: washed the wound of appetite in a relentless waterfall of sweat and semen.
Sex, Wound
The Stonewall riot may have been the start of a civil rights movement, but it was not the beginning of our history.
History
Next door I could hear the old man’s soul flap its heavy vermillion butterfly wings as the hustler shot a load down his throat.
Soul