“Fucking is a funeral act. To be in me involves worship. It involves craving the primordial woman, the earth mother. You have to be willing to step into the cave. To desire me means a death wish, to be in me means to crawl into the ground and bury yourself. I do not tolerate the childish flirting of near-death experience; I accept only the absolute, only the all-consuming end, that which lets you disintegrate and be undone. All that you hold dear and take pride in must be abandoned. This is it, there’s nothing beyond this wet darkness, neither tenderness nor passion have a say. Humanity gets flimsy and porous. We were never truly born because to do that we first have to die, and there is no finer opportunity than the moment you dig your fingers into my hips and arch to meet me, right when everything blinks shut. Do you like to die? Do you like to die? We are always falling apart, every day, slabs of decomposing soul hang off us like bad meat. I trim the excess of existence with a blind scalpel. Funerals are not about pleasure, they are about staggering away drunk, lost and new. Funerals do not happen for the living, it’s the living that happens because of the funerals. Stay inside me, and there is no going back to half-truths. There is no poison sweeter than the hope of surviving this.”
Clio Velentza lives and writes in Athens, Greece. Find her at @clio_v.
Gem Blackthorn is QMT's Sex Columnist, and the author/curator of Lust Thrust Thursdays. Send her your submissions and questions at sexsexsex [at] queenmobs.com