Free entry only to queer parties

The night hides your face like you’re a thief

You steal my hugs and kisses all night

You’re horny and we don’t limit ourselves to jerking each other off

Your marble eyes close

You fall asleep on the snow-white sheet of my chest

A couple of days later you leave for another city to join your wife and children

You save to buy them all gifts

I’m forced to save my feelings again

Free entry only to queer parties  

***

We fucked loudly all night while nuclear power plants mushroomed

We swallowed sperm so greedily that it started to rain and the air bombs got wet

We kissed so passionately that flowers began to grow outside the cemetery

We jerked off for so long that during this time the neighbor’s children grew up

Basements are dark, so it’s easier to have sex there

But it’s too early for children to have sex, so they just sit silently in bomb shelters

The gun’s erection bursts out of screaming throats

Severed heads continue to give blowjobs

Trigger of cardiac atavism

Something exploded in a bright jet and splashed the walls of the bomb shelter:

Gun or strap-on?

Blood or sperm?

***

cover man

stubble on the face

press on the stomach

in strong hands he holds a sword

there is a dragon tattooed on his hand that is about to devour me

in my childhood, models from glossy magazines looked a little stereotypical, but even then they seemed sexy to me in a sense

the dragon swallowed me

no sword will cut my pupils now

all the people around me look stereotypically like the same man from the cover of a magazine

did everyone really look at gloss in childhood?

Is it really true that everyone in adulthood loves stubble and six-pack abs?

I’m walking along an empty subway car

the wind of the underground blows traces of the past

the heat of the dungeon melts the flesh of the future

I’m nowhere and I don’t have stubble or abs

I’m nobody by the standards of glossy magazines

no one needs my body, not even myself

my body doesn’t even want to fuck because in reality fucking is not as glossy as in porn films

It’s surprising that glossy magazines are still quite popular

a cute boy with a beautiful butt is going down the escalator

his eyes are lowered to the phone screen

the heat and wind of time are blowing up our sandy footprints that never existed

***

I want you to tear my ass with your dick but you are no longer there

Your body is locked with the key of the night

My dick is forever locked in a chastity belt

Nobody knows what it means to die from love for a dead person

Everyone knows what death is, love and the dead

However time attaches no importance to anything and drowns everything in its water

I would like to drown in sperm and not in the water of lonely days

I wish atomic bombs wouldn’t grow instead of mushrooms

I want to drink your cum in the secret compartment of a nuclear power plant

Your grave is flooded after a hydroelectric explosion

Your body is shot through by a senseless war

(Another war that looks like dust dye)

You always loved flowers and didn’t like khaki

Plastic flowers are now with you forever

I’m now forever alone with time

I dream of being killed by a bomb and after that no one ever dies anywhere

I’m drowning in the water of a blown up hydroelectric station and I’m drowning in the lonely time that you gave me

Death is your first gift to me

(You were deliberately cold towards me because you knew about my love feelings)

This is your last gift

Death lights up on the horizon like a box with an unknown surprise

Instead of a strap-on there are still rifles

Instead of me people who thirst for life still die

But I’m not comfortable and I feel stolen at birth

Who and why brought me to the world of water and sand

Sand castles still await the tide

I’m always late (for dates and cemeteries)

I can not swim