Regretscapture and killor lock awayprey for betterbut either wayI'm hungry forthe taste of whateverwrapped round my shouldersin pleasured tremorsmuscles failingwith every moveI say "I love you"but what's it prove?whatever's leftis turned arounda stain in my memoryand a gasping sound
Dreamslogic gives way to preconceived feelingsthat come to me in downpours of doubtlike a senile old man muttering about what I've done wrongyou are the air: the medium through which these disgruntled rantings reach meeach ethereal oscillation pressurizing and depressurizingthe sweetly sickening smell of alcohol about youand me, blinking in and out of the certainty of conscious thought,receiver of the movement of your molecules,I am made aware of every bead of sweat dripping down my legs, back and facethis room is warmer than it should be the music, tinny and indistinct,informs your hips and my thoughts in sequenceif I knew
architectureI watched her stretch out of the corner of my eyeI was cleverto anyone observingit was the socketcable half unplugged - that I was looking atthat part of my vision was just a blurmy attention was fully focusedha, well... should I continue?I don't even know who she isexcept for those superficial introductions on the first day of classoh! but the arch of your backperfected by the Romansstylized by the Frenchthat ubiquitous structural element...never have I seen one so perfectas the one slung across that chairbetween your outstretched armsand your rotated hipsI could die happy were I that chair...Too much? I
EverywhereLike God, you're in these plaster wallsA breath in the cold that condenses and fallsA shiver sent swift across my skinAnd the silence of a crowd fighting the windI see you in the pale snow - lacedWith the sunset's pink and yellow traceIn spring the birds will sing your nameLike God, you'll greet me in the rain
Sta.sh
