Pleasure Seeker

Shadows of liberty spikes pierce a concrete wall, dimly lit, pulsating. a crowd roars, welches,
squelches, don’t stop; consuming, hungry, digesting. high in fod maps. fecund, it spits out a
bruised arm, chunky boots. costume-clad limbs tangle, intermingling. i am close to forgetting
who i am when, my phone interrupts. it vibrates once, then again. nava is engaged. a group
chat begins its own movement, pick up the pace now, right in front of the left, ooh, ooh, ooh ooh
ooh-ru achim velev sameach, we are circling, whirring, a woven rope rigged taut, hava
neranena venus’mecha! i barely keep up. this is the third of the year. whole worlds reside in me,
you feel so good inside me, it is staggering. tears surface, taking form next to beads of sweat.
they’ll never know it the way I know it, chase it. the way it enriches, guts. the way

my phone crashes to the floor. i bend to retrieve it, praying the glass hasn’t splintered. the set
picks up, beat giving way to gabbers. i stumble, lose my footing. the crowd tightens. snooki tries
to help, i reach out for her orange hand, but she’s swept off. i feel the sole of a vintage bunker
on my neck, mmmm, before my industrial gets snagged. the music in the floorboards and I
begin conversing. i think I’ve wet myself, before a pungent smell arises: the poppers broke
open. its tiny shards sink in through my back pocket. i wince, take solace in knowing it will mask
the stench of carrion. dousing myself in perfume like anointing in cum. rise, sexy, it cajoles. the
basement caves in, my vision narrows, i am close to forgetting who i am