The flashing lights, thump of the bass and blending of bodies came together to evoke the inimate nature of a club. In experiencing Tribe: Black Hole, I found myself reflecting on my experiences as a gay club goer.
In response to Black Hole
In response to Black Hole
burrowing inside of inside of inside. tugging on
my organs, ironing out their folds to a four on the floor beat stomp, clap, raise hands above my head
who am I without a touch of fear?
BREATHE in until I’m smooth, my burden
this festering pile doubles as my innards while
those sweaty bodies hate to let go
slippy sticky peeling off of that girl—
OH, that girl.
a chameleon, I slink; eyes unable to look forward go inside! turn inward. push it down, suck it up. my feet start tapping while my hips circle
This is the way a normal girl moves
now my hips are squared, grinding
A dancefloor makeout almost never hurts, feeding the self-destruction, drive it in/down/out my viscera spread across the floor, I am freed
OH faceless girl, eat me whole
