Asylum

[tectak]

He lets me

inside his skin.
And I wear him,
like a jacket
like a star seed
like a brine.

Seeking out darkness
we collide:
I push into tenderness,
slinky stiletto DNA,
hanging secrets from quarried bones
and knitting whispers
into awe.

Then he sheds,
and we begin again.

I am going out on a limb, here, and completely avoiding critical appraisal of the structure of this piece.
In a very real epiphany I found this piece incredibly erotic, and though not my preference, blatantly homosexual.
The first three lines are the giveaway. "HE" lets "ME" inside "HIS" skin. What else ticks the boxes? You need only to read on, once this platform is stable, and we get the symbolic stilletto/penis allusion, the DNA/semen connection, the "push into tenderness" though epicene, still fits. Excuse the pun. "Hanging secrets" can boggle the mind but "then he sheds" has NOTHING to do with gardening!
Of course, there are those who would argue that if you are going all metaphorical as a genre, you may as well write pornography in sanskrit ( some did) now that Bhagwanlal Indraji is dead, and your secret will remain intact.
I did not like this piece but am pleased to have read it. I may even plagiarise it sometime, using all the right words. Don't worry. No one will notice.
Best,
tectak