fingered fate

windy thoughts are being
fingered by faraway fates


this book, it has been
tortured by smears of neglect


bending and turning what
has been only recent me


poor, mistreated, twisted me
the book laughs at my life, as the scythe-bearer does


a life as me, or my loved one, he asks
i am the one who laughs; loved?


i am hate warmed up
the Devil shat me out and molded me to a cozy fire


he penetrated me with easy nudge
dripping with cold and harsh intentions, the stench


it sails through the air and kisses the dust
on the knife that shaped my clitoris


to enjoy what i enjoy
to enjoy what i endure


this is who i will be
and he leaves my fingered


thoughts to be
to be me
and only me.