So many cocks, so many mouths, for each one a little death.
Mother told me: never wear tight blue jeans, a vulgar display lures bad men.
If I spread myself over a mirror, under a bright light, I can see the scar.
Look: a neat zipper between my buttocks where Michael ripped me open.
In this animal skin I am protected, in this leather culture,
I may not meet your gaze, but you can hurt me only if I desire it.
Tonight I bleed with the moon. Tonight I swell with your babies.
Is that what these bruises are about, your gloved hand un-sexing me?