The home of a mouth,
the safest place on earth, inside his mouth, inside my mouth. I dig inside of it, I want to sleep under his tongue in naked lingerie, my hair falling down from his mouth, between his teeth I will moan to my good God. I sit on his lip sipping pepsi cola, promising him poems. Lips of soft meat on my hands, dripping water, I beg of him for his tongue on my neck.

My mouth gasping for air; an open mouth, a holy universe. His fingers behind my teeth, searching for my lungs, he tells me to be quiet, and I force my mouth into his. He looks into my mouth, while I beg God for more air, his eyes rest on my lips, and perhaps sins are forgiven that way. For my saliva is holy water falling down upon the pyramids, swallowing the whole desert in name of the teeth marks he will leave on my thighs.

The temple of the mouth; a place to pray, to swallow raw bodies. I want him inside of me, his body, his soul, his organs… through the holy gate: the mouth.

—  The Pyramids Of A Mouth by Royla Asghar