King of Shade, King of Scorpions

  1. Then it was cold, like small and selfish
  2. teeth, then it was rude, like a poison, and that
  3. was your voice, wasn’t it, and that
  4. was the thrust of your voice taking up my own,
  5. as any boy takes up his kite, in the village,
  6. in the sheep-ring he manages, as the god that will
  7. swoop down and take him. Weren’t these the days
  8. of abduction, after all, not rape? When to prove
  9. your devotion insisted a theft of some kind: tear way
  10. the boy-flesh, the boy-bone, and there it is:
  11. the solid, red muscle, the thrush, thrumming in its strict
  12. and freakish shade. To know it, you had to
  13. claim it; claim it, break it. The god penetrated,
  14. with his raw antenna. You moved in me, like prayer.