Konjekto

There are no lines in this balcony scene, just the long drag of engines, like dirty glass bottles in some alleyway. You've asked me should I feel like a prostitute sometimes, not owned by some man but those curtain veins paid by the hour, torn and collapsed. Your breathing is narrow, and a wide bloom of empty space is outside you, spinning and obscene because life's not getting any better than that.

There are no lines in this balcony scene, just the long drag of engines, like dirty glass bottles in some alleyway. You've asked me should I feel like a prostitute sometimes, not owned by some man but those curtain veins paid by the hour, torn and collapsed. Your breathing is narrow, and a wide bloom of empty space is outside you, spinning and obscene because life's not getting any better than that.

I heaved my lungs to you, like hot tar gum spirit, so plural and effuse, and I kept myself warm and quiet, and still to the arrival and to the departure of breath.

He had always known the abstract, the moral, was none but a profane commodity. The powers of possession violated through his fingertips, winding flickers down a trigger, hollowed out and the drippings clicking like a dizzy liquid-- and the way he curled the glass to its overflow, it pulled him like a violin string half-tuned and cocked in its cradle, a dilated smile locked into release and paling, so softly like a tired amphetamine. And static is a nectar, eyes waxed and melted to a pool of contentment, in the crackling sacrelige that hums like an empty room. Control is sweet, for a house is built to home you- the bullet

There are sparklers in the back of my throat, and you're just itching to dynamite this joint. (A rift of twitches, from an orange twit.) I'm a fighting last chance, a choke-battered tongue serum tangerine sweat retained behind a layer of plastic wrap and I crinkle whenever you slide into my shiver of a short-leashed field mouse with dandelion claws stuck in its spinning wheel of a spine. (And by dandelion, I mean poppy.) I always love it when I can slurp up the spasms, and you're the perfect paint thinner to finish the job. So load your heat into the barrel of my heart rate twiddle your toes and let her rip through my fucking