Trigger warning: this poem is about the sexual abuse of a child.
Hands lurk in the walls they
wait till Peter’s asleep then
jump him and strip him
They say he looks like an angel
these hands that stroke his skin,
his hair, make his dick tingle:
get hard, these hands, they
say the Angel Gabriel’s dick
Peter closes his eyes and cries with
the other angels:
all of them naked and erect and waiting
for God to stop touching them too.
(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved