have you ever known me to ask that question?
i’m not saying anything you don’t already know.
i’m just carrying on a conversation while reading
a book with someone who just bought a house in
santa clara. eviscerated limbs. phone sex. and
getting our rocks off at the waterfall by a duo from
new zealand. it was the first time i ever saw you
come. i never do that kind of drive. the company
so outstanding it’s like we’re all competing for
inclusion in the next number one love song.
feeling terribly lovely, french, and in love;
floating out over the abandoned piers of the
twenty-first century where flat is good
and there’s a robust resemblance. with
no time to speak of. except i’ve set aside
this much for a brief intercourse.
