Come Inside

I wonder what you would think
if you knew
how truly
filthily
dirty
my mind is?
Can you even conceive of the delicious things
I would do
to you?
You have probably learned
not to open the gates
to that particular flood of images,
and you certainly have more self-control than I,
or you would have a string of decomposing affairs in your wake.
Or am I the only one
who strains against the confines of society?
And no, it's not my lack of gods
that allows this portal to gape open
(like my legs under this skirt)
but maybe it proves to me
that they couldn't exist,
none of them,
(The ornery little imps).
But if they did exist, even just one of them,
I would find Him and look him dead in the godly eye
and ask him what it's all for.
And then I would slide my hand up his thigh
and grab him by the long beard
and swallow his entire being
into my own.
Because
I'm not exactly prideful,
but
I am the only god I need.
It's easy to say that when you don't believe in gods, I suppose.
But I am the one that can make my world heaven or hell.
Yours too, if you duck behind the curtain and join me here in my daydreams...