word count: 94
i’m not a necrophiliac, but nearly—
i’m turned on not by corpses & cadavers
but dead minds whose ideas still survive,
whose old insights still penetrate clearly
& light the way my living self now travels,
directing me where to go, what to strive
for, how to push forward through tragedy—
their force flows through me like gravity,
the men who forged paths through calamity
& broke divisions down, empowered
by rare, uncompromising honesty
& raw intelligence—the best of the best.
trust me; genius is what thrusts me into heat,
& yours (embodied!!) makes me soak our sheets.