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bitekiosk.bsky.social
(attack regardless of target)
@bitekiosk.bsky.social
84 followers 470 following 880 posts
Maple. 18+ only. Poet, erotica writer.

Actual cave dweller. Finger thief. Tusk pervert.

it/she/he (whichever causes the most problems in any given moment)

fka scratchingway

https://bite-kiosk.neocities.org

pfp: inuamaru
bnr: technojara
Posts Replies Media Videos
bitekiosk.bsky.social
mac and/or cheese
a stainless steel saucepan full of pasta shells and a cheese sauce (roux, milk, muenster, pepper jack), topped with “red jalapeño garlic” seasoning and black pepper
December 27, 2025 at 4:42 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
excerpt from script of upcoming VN #prose #fiction
Once-again, again. The blood of the guts of a building. I sense the building pouring into me, and some deep tank outside of it. It's so much, I can't handle it what is happening I am going to vomit I am going to rupt––and that twist again, unlooping my c–ithe word is veins and the pressure stabilizes, then diminishes, and the heat is more than before, so much more than before, something arches, something shudders, this room is rocketing between binary stars, it is mantle-core spinning desire, I am going to vomit, no it's fine actually I love this, I love, love, love...
December 26, 2025 at 11:23 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
why did i salt the salad it’s so saltyyyyyy
metal bowl has salad with oil + vinegar and pepperoncini. cosmic crisp apple, halved. mango juice.
December 23, 2025 at 6:28 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
it‘s. chrishmish
forecast of 60 to 80 the next five days
December 23, 2025 at 10:44 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
i remember submitting this poseref to goyagoat and getting this excellent illustration back... even stick figures is good!!
my incredibly simplistic drawing of ketra eating a berry illustration of ketra by goyagoat
December 21, 2025 at 11:47 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
this panel gave me cardiac trouble
toki (the taller woman) slinks her arm around asumi's lower back and hip, pulling her close in one neat motion
December 21, 2025 at 8:06 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
i feel ya on that. actually wrote a poem about my feelings about revising lol. but i am trying to get better at it and analysis as well since i think in the long run i’ll want to have those tools sharpened
December 21, 2025 at 2:05 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
#poetry #excerpt
slashing of car tire albatross swooping dough scraper in mixing bowl pillow fight hands washing each other my throat sings
December 18, 2025 at 7:41 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
want to get back to working on this today #poetry #excerpt
guy who says "gesundheit" to every foreign word gets laughs admittedly lab assistant in rouge cotton tomato sauce all on her fingers yum
December 18, 2025 at 12:58 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
whence all these hawks? and to where?
like twenty hawks or some other bird of prey flying around
December 16, 2025 at 10:22 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
concocting #poetry
the party is all chemists and i am merely chemistry a fluid already ready to combust under a fume hood i think i need fifteen minutes under a fume hood
December 16, 2025 at 9:48 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
December 11, 2025 at 12:14 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
girl dinner
three bowls on a table. 1. large stainless steel has “spring mix” and raisins and oil 2. blue ceramic with a brown lip has spanish rice 3. white square ramekin has shelled pistachios
December 10, 2025 at 11:24 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
look at the golden phlox greeting you up from the grackles of my fingers
next year that galloping woman of horchata cinnabar of smoldering mesquite thornfields of a knife's compress of blues staining my teeth violet of translucent theft of my lungs and other impediments of designs aging and hidden of sunwarmth green and green gold of my bladder whispering crystals into the ears of her hands of searing footprint on the zephyrs between scapulae of bleeding out happily under a melting mercury lamp of the last drops fueling my eyes' prayers to the dark star fulminating behind the garment of her skin of steel effortlessly jumpstarted after a decade wintering of armflesh neither hot nor cold but a secret personal dripping third thing of my hands crawling out of my hands folding up and pointing neatly toward her of a rusted chattering brittle steeltrap hexpatterned sublimating rune-cremated girl's body dragging itself between the grainy oaks and maples of ashen flickering shipwrecks demanding you have to let me into my canopic jar as simple accentuation of the dissymmetry of her pantry you have to let me simmer and thicken in her infrared lap you have to let me worship a second celestial pillar you have to scooch over on the loveseat of my needs and drape your arm across my shoulders you have to brush life's hair off my cheek so i can kiss me too
December 9, 2025 at 10:58 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
inscrutable grin. do you feel strong enough to try to scrut it?
December 9, 2025 at 8:32 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
show me a picture on your phone that has your energy but isn't a selfie
an ogre woman in a crisscross-pattern skirt and coat with her horns out from drinking cheerfully pushes her bartender (that is, girlfriend) around in a shopping cart. the girlfriend is scared
December 9, 2025 at 8:03 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
would you let it hitch a ride?
asking me specifically to put alt text on a selfie is crazy. what next? you want me to think nice thoughts about myself? seriously though i am grinning with a toothpick in my mouth. i have heavy eyeliner on and i am wearing a st. louis cardinals cap with a red bill over scapula-length brown hair. i have on a black shirt with computer parts on it in white and red. i cut very big sleeves into the shirt and you can see a lacy red bra and a tuft of armpit hair
December 9, 2025 at 7:53 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
charm!!
a pink humanoid icon with a red heart on a green background. it is maybe 12x12 resolution.
December 9, 2025 at 6:59 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
a purple doll in purple mech armor frolics playfully through metal railings, scattering them behind it
December 8, 2025 at 10:07 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
excerpt 2
if we allow this cunt some fresh air she's gonna stick about thirty-two billion ladyfingers up there and who has the time for that i certainly don't think i deserve anyone's time or fingers when have i ever acted like i did
December 8, 2025 at 9:13 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
excerpt
i'll get right to it it'll only be a moment there's a lot of fingers poking around as you remove digit 32,000,000,001 from me go and point it at the target of your choosing no give it back actually give it here please please give it back please i'm sorry please i didn't mean any of it please none of this is real i'm just empty right now i'm just so empty right now everyone else ran out on me stuck their thumbs into someone else's pie can't imagine why can't imagine what they got that i don't selective hearing and horse blinders? warm hands and a watertight heart? please please even just one knuckle please please i hate you give it back i can't breathe you don't get it it's like a tracheostomy in my crotch it's soul incontinence into living room carpet give it back i'm going to bleed out it'll be in public next time if you don't give it back please immediately i'll splatter myself across every Walmart parking lot until you comply, smile i'll void my chest again and it will smell even worse please i'm being honest it's all true ahh... thanks. sorry for being such a greedy little monster yeah, yeah thank you and don't you DARE take it away again or i'll get my hammers you know i think maybe you've fingered the problem
December 8, 2025 at 3:01 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
this is me, if u even care
a purple woman in a purple and red mechsuit with a visor that looks like rabbit ears. she is holding a really really big gun. i’m ass at describing mecha, sorry
December 5, 2025 at 1:55 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
greedy
a smiling figure in an open white floral dress and jeans. it is carrying a knife
December 4, 2025 at 1:44 AM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
might start posting more poetry here
Title: Stay wet. Author: maple b. Text: I apologize for birthing you on unwilling park benches and hobbling away. For twisting your fingers until they pop off like grapes. For lacking the vitality to name you. When you slide out of my body you are already another person. I apologize for never looking at you long enough to tell you you're ugly. To do your makeup. To see my scars across your abdomen. I don't want you to lose feathers over the Pacific, to experience being plucked smooth in South Korea, to find yourselves crammed into three-minute commodities. Lurch forward, stab anyone who trips and falls across your path. Everyone sharing your heart enjoys a little bloodletting. Did you know some bodies produce too much blood? It makes me sick with envy. I want to walk around with open wounds instead, I have to fold you closed into envelopes. I stick every finger inside myself to find and plug up my cracks. As if anything except sand seeps out but, wow, that's a lot of sand. I am done being a beach and not an ocean. Of sandbagging when I should burst like a water balloon. Of dry wit instead of red handprint. Leaving you elevated and desiccated on the operating room table. Hold still while I commit surgery. Wake up and smile at my face in the mirror. How horrifying. I worry you are not my rose-cheeked kids. I worry you are merely scabs I grow tired of picking.
December 2, 2025 at 6:17 PM
bitekiosk.bsky.social
tong my balls
on a counter, there is a box of ping pong balls with a pair of tongs resting on the balls
December 2, 2025 at 1:57 PM