No nuclear regime
On your violet-thighs
Could bring my butt
In the Trembling light
As the black poppy
Hyper-clito
Of sinking dreams
That linger weirdly
Swindling
All my guts
To the point of no return
No norm, no hygienic fear
Nor slur or blurb
Can set me back
To my hetero-stack
Only performances
And bio-queens
And drag-pimps
Of blurring femmes
And lustful glitches
Can restore
Thousand years of joy
In one sour body
At the edge
Of his unwanted wanting
Warranted
In a wasteland
Of rapacious folds