Fun fact: if you know your feline body language, you’ll notice that the lynx is deferring to the housecat. As far as these two are concerned, the housecat is the higher-ranking cat.
OH MY GOD
In 1983 a man was tested to see if he could sense god if all his senses were taken away. Every sense nerve in his brain was disconnected. He could not feel, hear, see or smell. He began reporting he could hear the voices of the dead and gave precise details that he could have not known. He then said he could see them and began clawing at his eyes, it turned to screaming and biting chunks of his flesh off. His last words were “I have spoken with God, and he has abandoned us” and died.
this is terrifying
Sex is not a goddamn performance.
Sex should feel as natural as drinking water.
It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe.
Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh.
It’s not about being “good in bed.”
It’s about being happy.
One should never worry if they’re doing it “correctly.” Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you.
Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.
Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be.
I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.
I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want.
Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.
I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.
“Good in bed,” what.
You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you.
Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel.
This isn’t a test.
Ken Arkind - “David” (CUPSI 2014)
"Not a day goes by without people leaving messages, poems or pictures on his wall the way one would leave flowers at a gravesite. I often find myself sending messages to his inbox, prayers meant only for his ears, things I never expect to be answered."
Performing during the Penmanship Books showcase at the 2014 College Unions Poetry Slam Invitational.