Caliban

What wild Caliban is this within?
The bastard monster progeny of my lust
that stalks the bloody corridors of my heart
squeezes the weakest part of me
inhabits these bones against my will
seeps like lymph beneath my skin

he steals this blood
sets adrenaline running
pumps the drug
into spongy lobes of flesh
invades these fingers
sends senses humming
tangles thought and feelings
weaves meat into lascivious mesh

Yet I abhor this seething fat-pricked grunt
who hunts raw, purple-lipped prey
his clawing digits open bleeding holes
part curtains of God-manipulated clay
delve into damp recesses
where my soft daydream led
and some swift satisfaction lay

and yet his eyes are mine
mine his hands, his tongue
mine his devouring teeth
mine his salivating orifice
his penetrating priapism
his appetite
his hunger
his lust
mine
his, my wanton amorality
his Cyclopean cannibal code
he fucks with the shade
of my shadow
leeches the colour from my cheek
bleaches my humour
moulders the outskirts of my soul
starves me of the oxygen of joy

he, my brother is
my mirror twin
my double-dazed reflection
the bully butcher brother
who beneath a veil of loving kindness
slaughters laughter
massacres emotion
murders the moment of joy
with his acidic orgasm