Lovers

Only intimates join in this dance

of planned takings and calculated ends,

blue eyes meeting brown dawn upon day

upon dusk, hooves plodding plotted ruts,

hairless hands pulling, striking, restraining,

raping flesh proclaimed friend,

giver of life. We are intimates, we say,

human and not, like white-skinned richies

love black-skinned maids.

Family members, we say.

Intimates dancing in our hall,

to our tune, under our knives,

shot with our guns, gnashed

between our blunted teeth.

We love the cows like we love our women:

fucked and used and ground up

in the machinery of our love.