beg me not. I’ll hit you out of the blue.

I do like submissive boys, those

frail-wristed twenty-somethings I can pin down

with just one hand, papercut-thin and full

of HELPLESS moans parting their lips, addictive

desperation & weakness, letting me

touch them wherever I, letting me

loose, please, and corrupt

the masculine, I would have loved

to kiss you too, you were so eager, then

withdrew – and now I know that

you are like them, better yet, biting

a virtual lip at the mention

of Hellraiser, yes, I was wrong to be gentle

with you; you crave a cenobite

like me, I should have hurt you

in the way you— and I CAN,

NOW I can, subtle

tortures, but NO TEARS PLEASE, only

a hoarse shiver in my

fever asylum, keeping you for

hopes that were

delicious, you have been

warned: now I allow myself to be

cruel I get carried away, I am

the son and the heir of

an icicle race with

an appetite for surrender, a high-

priest anointed by hisses, what

do you know of former

pain & I will not tolerate your

sudden silences unless

your voice is broken