Sex and Murder Magazine

By Deborah Walker

My secret lover is somewhat odd.
He came to me one desperate, desolate night
along the murmuring shadow of a turning comet.
He's a transient alien,
a dirty emotion eater.
He tastes my secrets.
All night long, he roils in
my hidden mind, probing my
innermost humiliations.
And I love it.
"Your Ma's on the phone,"
shouts my lover
Panic blends with hot shame,
and he smiles.