Que Sacrificio

I need a shot of you.

Feel you burn

my throat 

when you go down, 

coat my walls with your words

graffiti artist of love that you are.

Your words fall into me

I the grand canyon for your words

that reverberate the loudest in me.

Together we are a work of nature

I Bet it Does

I.
Your big, swollen breasts
bloated, in pain
bad pain
how it feels good.
I bet it does

II.
I feel sad
guilty when I think
about the pain.
Makes me wet-
Your breast, tender with pain
many times they’ve felt that way
because of me.
Bad pain how it feels so good
it does.


III.
I sniff my fingers
Sweet, wet pussy
on my tips
sweet wet pussy on MY tip.
Made me want to
and I did tap
that ass
many times
made it mine.
Distance has made my
heart grow
less fearful.


IV.
Fuck me…
fucking you.
Watch me cum!
they way I’ve had you watch before
I don’t have to touch you to fuck you
I never did
Why do I feel like I have to now
find our mojo
that mental connection
not just brain sex
those times
when cell minutes were used up
With you giving me your busts.
Mobile to mobile
Please believe I was giving you mine
Cause that’s how it feels to want
I want you
I have to surpass
We can surpass
I bet we does…

Soldadera de Amor

It is what it is.
A disgrace
a mustache
a uni-brow
on a pretty face.
No matter how much
you consume her
you all can’t be Frida
La sufrida, vivio
su vida.
Subidas y bajadas
Haci es la vida.

Now that there
is someone….(ugh!)
some pain that you
no one
wants to feel
some pain that kills
some pain that makes you
wanna kill
yourself
quick like a leap
or slow like depression
of your soul
put yourself down
down
in a little black box
Aha! Hence my intrigue.
Not my destiny but my mind.
So not free to
so not free
Not expunged of those memories
I say I can’t remember but
como los cargo encima
como el peso del matrimonio
… some pain that makes you wanna kill.
But she didn’t
she didn’t kill herself!
She painted her imperfections
with perfection.
She paints her imperfections
with inflections
with inflections
with inflec-tionnnnnnnnn-ssssssss
Painting deliciousness
on tongues.

She paints her imperfections for me
letting me in to what got into her.
Her spinal column is pillar strong
I see it in her stance.
Her hugs
soft and secure like a tree
I stand with her
I kneel
at her side
near her spats.
Where she likes to see me.
She likes the view
so much so she built herself a tree house
to get a closer look.
Look!
A little piece of heaven.
heaven
haven
of my trust
haven of my lust
haven of my fears and
that big ol’ mean bitch I carried inside me
refusing to let me live
so I thrust that bitch, thrust her out
…almost all out
and into her
Mistress
/
Trust
/
Mistress
/
keeper of…
dominator of…
protector of…

War begets war?
Violence begets violence?
Not to the Soldaderas de amor
aquellas mujeres con el espiritu arañado
que han logrado despues de todo
todo todo aquel rollo…a amar a la vida
“Viva la Vida!”
vivio la vida hasta la muerte
even with her
spinal column\broken
collar bone\broken
ribs, pelvis\broken
her leg 11 times\breaks.
She breaks me down
puts me back together
Coyolxauhqui
moon goddess
surrounded by brothers
the stars
shattering the darkness of the sky
rays of life.

Reik my soul
raking my back
With her nails
/
flogger
\
single tail
…
a trail
3 tracks
mi cuero arañado
…bear claws
she gets beastly on me.
SOY beastia
Por su cuero
Staining my back red
inflaming my back
amor que arde.
Her ass on my head
muffling my thoughts
I feel her legs naked
or in cuero
around my neck.
Dayum!
She gives the best hugs.

War begets war violence begets violence
Search for perfection begets…
Aha! That’s a tricky question
cause I don’t show my imperfections
see
even after a drunken night,
hung-over depressed
waking up in last-night’s outfit
I feign togetherness.

I’ve never been a cheater
but man am I cheating life!
I should be treating life
like a book, a story I want to read
It’s not in our destiny
It’s in our mind.
Please don’t mind
me as I unwind
spiral down
this vortex
called life
it is what it is…

(@= C+A image/Anna P. Sutton: words/Claudia Rodriguez:)

It's B-D-S-M Bitch!

It’s B-D-S-M!
Bitch!
Pick a letter
Any letter
I chose M.
Mine is M
Mamamela mas
Mami mas!
Ohhhmmm
mastica mis mecos
munch on my meet curtains
mmmmMistress
muñequita
metete mas
M
M
M
Envuelveme mas
Mas-oquista.
Not a typical slave
but definitely a masochist
a kinky mother fucker
Shit-no-I-ain’t-vanilla!
Not into humiliation either.
You know, being put down?
Like a convertible I’ve had that covered for years
Now trying to ride topless
Which doesn’t make sense if I’m trying to get topped.
But to put it simpl\y Masochist
I like it rough
Get tough on my skin.
Go crazy on my back
But I gotta pull back,
realize I don’t
call the shots
You Mistress are the one
that plots the scene.

Leather, leather all the time
Mistress wants me in it.
I will
get all up in it
for her.
I will
her pretty-boi-slave.
Are you kidding!
She growls at me when
I wear it.
I wish one day
She’ll bite me hard
on my back,
really her back
her canvas
creating colors of
crimson and blues.
Mouth on canvas?
She’s a canvivore.
Not out for the blood
out for the love
of the game
The fame?
The love.
Out smarting
out creating
to inspire.

Wish I could cut the wire
don’t want to be a liar
don’t want to be an outlier
of this outlying community
Such a fucken apprentice!
Gonna get myself fired.
Just cut to the Chase
I’m talking banks
As in secure and insured.
trying to be secure with myself
do me, and feel assured…
reassured that I’m doing the right things.

I write things
cause I have a bad memory
I write things
down to share the memories
stir those memories
like I stir this alphabet soup
B-D-S-M
Bitch!
Pick a letter any letter.
M
M
M
Masters in Fine Arts
Mastering my heart
Mastering myself.
Don’t want to be famous.
Don’t need to be a billionaire
to know I’m fucken bad.
All I need is oceans of ideas
keep spoiling me
spilling over me
so I can spit ideas.
Ridding someone’s coattails
resting on my laurels
not part of my vocabulary,
not down with that lingo.

Everybody deserves a bomb orgasm
in their life.
That’s what I get-
Life.
From doing what I do.
You know what I do.
That thing that does that thing to you
makes you gag like a big dick.
My malicious delight.
Grant me immunity
from writer’s block
I’ll take that shot, or pill
I will sacrifice
pay the price- go for broke
for endless birth.
Don’t think that we pros don’t create
Life.

It’s B-D-S-M!
Bitch!
Pick a letter
any letter.
I chose
M.

your heart is my art

You know
you know
you a trip!
Hanging with you is visiting
the unfamiliar
not knowing where I’m going
not raising any expectations
and I don’t carry any baggage.
Each visit or ‘art play’ I rack up
air miles, nothing but smiles
as my CV grows
artistically and otherwise.
Don’t take offense but what we
are doing is bartering
each other’s skills to enhance our own.
You know my creative button is always on
you asking me to thread my words to your
installation pieces is nothing but a good reason
to write, so I write you Mistress
write the things that flow
to my head, those moments I feel in my heart.
Your heart, your heart
your heart is my art.
Don’t cry me a fucken river with that mental block shit
I only allow that to happen to my cock
I’d rather walk around all blue-balls
then black ball my art.
Your heart, your heart
your heart is my art.
The chemistry is there, careful with the sparks
our shit is toxic, not like bad
but sick…like when you get off a rollercoaster ride
or the way I feel when you ask me to
I get off
right.
I get off this writing.

I recently learned to embrace the term
“Cause I deserve it”.
But still I, I , I trip
I’m a tripper, I’m tripping over myself
trying to write about shit.
“my creative button is always turned on”
making, faking, stirring shit up
and our collabos keep me outta trouble,
But you say to me “you’re funny”
which = I’m cute
I wonder what “You’re trouble” = to
I’m no trouble at all
really easy, I am
just want you to be pleased
with me Mistress.
I know I’m a shit talker, forgive me
but do know I’m not full of shit
I’m as real as real art can get.

I can’t forget that she asked if you were my girl
my subject… the magical creature I paint
in my narratives, a unicorn of a woman
who knows how to make me trust
trust in love.
I spread my “social graffiti”
on your psyche
my words seep inside your head
like a Mistress gets inside my head
she, the first and last thought of my day
Could I think about her
more than I pray?
No way, that’s just the wrongest
thing to say…
Does it matter?
I can have faith in another.

Enslave Me

Carve a cross

across my chest

I want you to be my Mistress.

Cross, cross,

crossed your heart and hoped to die

by my side my love

but all I FEEL is outside of your

gravitational force

a black whole

My Love.

My sister tells me que tengo a dolor en mi corazon

No, I tell her, I don’t love misery

She’s my muse

she looks soooo good in reds.

Besides

it’s a feeling just like the rest.

…across my chest

Pain is so different than misery-

Pain is like the cycle of water

pours down hard on you

evaporating with time.

Release

…it’s what it is

I want you to be my Mistress…

I need a coach in letting go.

If I already feel lost

what the fuck do I have to lose?

YOU

got my back Mistress.

Have it, have it

Take it

take it!

The more you give it

the more I take

-I can take it

but YOU will have it all.

Have the thumping

of your flogger

against my back

haunt me

days after days

Mistress

cause You have my back…

ass, legs, chest, sex.

Hit me with that sense of urgency

I’ll take it with that sense of Ohmmmm

Ohmmmm…. Ohmmmm

That sense of urgency?

Mindfulness

nothing else.

Who…is out there?

Who…cares?

All the cares

cares, I let go

And I’m there

hovering.

Your flogger

each hit

louder

in my ear

the breeze blows

out of me the wind goes

each thumping against my back

reverberates against my lungs.

Asphyxiation?

Look Ma, no hands.

I free fall into that subspace

Cross, cross my arms

across my chest.

Enjoy the free fall

hold it, hold it tight

make muscle memory.

Mindfulness-

nobody else

not even the stars that have

come out tonight

matter.

We’re all made out of matter.

Then why does shit, little shit matter?

Put me in that corner Mistress

put me in that space

There’s nothing but space

Subspace, subspace, subspace

Enslaved in the…

Enslaved by the…

subspace

created by your

delicious flogging

Mistress

Just let me continue to hypothesize

dramatize

hurt

As I get up again from every breakdown

Mistress

I promise to get up

Just let me remember you there

with me.

Paint a perfect picture

dance your brush against the shadows

Mistress

my Angel of Mercy

stroke on that canvas

stroke on me

enslave me

helpless and vulnerable

not hiding from you

no hiding behind an ego

I breath deeply in

ecstasy and agony

perfectly

filling up

the Black hole.

Mistress

you brought it to me

again…took my trust in your hands

Hurt me the way I like

to be.

Healing; circa 2007 but gotta keep it REAL-evant

I look at my wound

A fleshy calaca

Speckled with pink and red dots where hair follicles

Once existed.

It is my cortada with its rosada edges

an umbra of swollenness.

I look at my wound

Slimy como un gargajo

Me llena de asco

But why does my mouth water when I look at it?

I focus on the pain

Feel it throb up and down my arm

Makes my nails tingle

I feel the throb until my clit tingles.

I ignore my cut for days

Leave it exposed, victim to the elements

Vulnerable to infection.

“Huh I should put something on it. Some ointment or something.”

I research the web under branding and in the process

Learn about the highly infectious nature of burns.

One degree more and I could’ve damaged the nerve endings.

I cover my wound with a Band Aid

To silence the pain.

My thoughts get the best of me

I get chilled with loneliness, paralyzed with irrational fears

My thoughts run wild

ever present

bare

like bones

I reach for the Band Aid

And as I pull it off the stinging mixes in with another type of pain

The pulling of tiny hairs from their root “sssss, uh.”

Pain.

Pains

make me who I am, makes us who we are

Our bodies are screaming with pain

Physical, mental and emotional

Pain brings us together

It repels us

“Get away! You pained me.”

“get away you’re damaged goods.

Look at my wounds.

“Cover that shit up.”

I struggle not to be hostage to my pain

But it is my pain

Fuck you for giving it to me

Fuck you for not knowing it.

“Can you see my wound, it’s only residue?”