Sex, Kink, and the Erotic: Two Poems by Khalisa Rae
Fire and Brimstone Bodies
my skin remembers the kiln; the bake- lust
animal gnawing at my hip. the glowing,
torch-stricken thing I couldn’t quit. how
i begged for water, to cool the sun-drunk
daze and bad decisions. tossing bodies
around in a funk-filled perfume. we always
regret it in the morning. that brimstone
they said was after us finally caught up.
nothing like a heatwave to hangover demons
the light refuse to cast out. a dash of sage
and holy water — lather
cocoa butter, say it was a bad,
bad dream. the way we tore each
other apart and stitched
ourselves back together with fire.
The Body Does a Praise Dance and the Ass Says Amen
& you never deserved this clap n’ quake anyway
but while I’m down here hand
me a towel
dab my forehead, catch my sweat, hold my
hair back while I bend & shake. why men
always the ones that drool at the rattle & bass drum
like a teething toddler? pick up your jaw boy, this
ain’t for you. Never has been. I want to see how low
I can bring my body to the ground, and deliver
it to the sky again. To dirty whine & roll my hips
is to exorcise demons. to cast out the fuckery
from the day by the fire‘n my slide lean & grind.
So let me sage this sticky floor before the lights
come on at 2. Applaud me. Tell me I did good
& slide a dirty bill in my g-string. Compensate me
for how I pirouette on the pole and sway into a grand plie.
Praise me for the way my booty pop powders the ground with
glitter and twirls
so fast it makes you want to commit to it.