we ate bauxite beneath the viaduct as an act of eroticism -- a distraction
most other days we were the metropolis in girl form -- quiet contemplation
I acid warm -- she complexity in spring

have you ever housed another's fist?

tuesday was a lull - the air resonated with the hum of our masochistic nature
but you had to look closely
-- my tongue resembled crushed velvet between knees & concrete
-- my thighs curved in all their vastness
to her I tasted of weekends by the sea when she would fill her cunt with wilderness;
a bramble of all the things she wished could remain
-- she was succulent --

have you ever climaxed in a room of strangers?
have you ever endured silence during intercourse?

tuesday was exploration
we spoke of femininty being her deus ex machina
we spoke of hesitance

have you ever experienced humiliation?

we were savage for the sake of experience

Sophie Essex doesn't consider herself a poet though you'll mostly find her at poetry nights rambling awkwardly about sex and surrealism. At other times she edits the experimental print-only magazine Fur-Lined Ghettos, and has recently set up her own publishing house, Salò Press. Her first tiny pamphlet 'Objects of Desire' was recently published by PYRAMID Editions. 
You can find her at @furlinedghettos

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