I am the fantastic instigator.

Not just hating, not just despising.
But moving beyond, over and through
Up and in,
Dip and spin,

And suddenly I am gone.
Quite gone.

I fit the saucepan on my head
Open my mouth and softly tread
Through fields of fire, fields of red
Enough to make him wet the bed.

Not just loving, not just trusting.
But thrusting.

Further and further
Until the salt burns my eyes and ears
And all I see is white

Ulcers.

She stands with a towel and ushers me away
I sit and sway
I dance and pray.