Lilac Wine :: a warzone towards haiku

October 17, 2010

The apple in a whole roast pig’s mouth: fête

Filed under: Text — Tags: , — Lilac @ 6:39 pm

Revelry like Rome’s – grapes and slave-girls – atop a castle. Even boy slaves are offered at this fête; my brother requests one bend down, knowing I’d like to practice impact play. The lad obliges, smiling; with swarthy skin and gold-brown hair, he looks like the free-loving son of Demeter I invented once for a story. I’m pleased to make his bottom glow red.

It’s surreal to hold the flesh of a girl whose name I don’t know, and who doesn’t care about me. Heavy breasts. Silver-glitter eyes.

Elegant beauties become undone; the castle’s sturdy slaves are flogged two at once in their garter belts and back tats. The king receives forty-four tits in his face. Masks gleam gold and red. We eat strawberries and roast beef.

Ever see pigs’ teeth up close? Their molars are huge and grotesque. Collared & under orders, I hold back my hair and bite an apple from the mouth of a whole roast pig.

Portishead plays; fae creatures stroll the halls in fetishized materials; girls’ breasts are exposed like cream and silk and summer.


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