Silly boy, when eyes smolder with a volley of canon fire
they are meant to inflict damage.
Don’t declare war against a superpower.
My ship was docked in the bedside candle,
I set it alight.
At sea I am the captain, and God, and the consuming forces of imperialism—
I don’t just meet people, I conquer them,
colonize their wills and dress them in Victorian clothes,
so when the leak springs in the hull they will be forced to peel
off every single layer.
You will pile all decoration at my feet as an offering,
kneel with open arms to receive judgment.
B7?…No D10?…No F4?...yes F3?...yes F2?...yes F1?...damn, you sunk my battleship
You don’t just meet people, you conquer them.
At sea I am vulnerable, and pray to your God for deliverance. I am afraid
there will be no end to our subtle warfare,
come candlewax or high water
You light the candle to set the mood,
kiss me too roughly, grope for strings to pull my corseted lungs tight
and call the gasps sexual excitement.
Try to shrug me off but I will keep clutching,
hold you close as the water rushes in.
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