(1) I Will
Begin, by Gathering all of my Body Around your Assified Access
(2) in other words:------------------à“Horizon: Pummel Me Close…”
(3) It was Only the Attempt to Fidget around the Face I Thought, was Intruding
(4) This
Winter, while Alone in a Snowed-In
House for 5 Days, I Routinely thought that throughout the Bosco, I saw My Vapid Twin Staring back at Me
(5) “For
Years, I was Limited by what she didn’t Notice”
(6) Funny how Nostalgia can Locate one into
every Fault so Comfortably, that Primitively,
One Ends-Up Seeking out its Embrace
with each Increasingly Mundane and Shitified Turn
(7) The Irony
of every Attachment is Oblivious Now
(8) Which was
another Curdle of Absence
(9) So to
Question my Desires: I Will Desecrate
this Fucking Word
(10) The Slurve is the Refinement, or Rather the Audacity of Assumptions, which Ultimately,
Points one to, and Dictates:------------à“Perhaps I was Mistaken…”
(11) Oh, But it
was Mere (-ily) the Fact of the Hard Resistance
of the Head being Held Still
(12) “Operatic,
Criminal, Unquestionably, Neutered…”
(13) See: this Explains my Intention to
Govern
(14) Because: You Hoard all of my Memories of
Pleasure
(15) Thus Boxed, or Rather: Thus this City increasingly (is) “All just
the Same…” and this very Desire I Must have Sensed in you (in) Once: a
Detail of the First Understanding of an Immense
Proportion and the Struggling with Hence:
how the Space around, ceaselessly
Disembodied only to Retract, over the
Skin, the Bones and Flipped to
(Re)—Embody, What it is, in Us, that Pin-Points
that Itching Sense of Arousal, or the Compounding Vigilant Pressure
(16) “But Fuck-It”-------àWe Erase
the Marks, the Maps, and the Comforts that Envelope us in a Trap of Romance
(17) If this is
not True, then it does not Shine Proudly
in your Face
(18) And to the
Unstable Body: the Stability of a Mistake
(19) Later, when
I Can no Longer Restrain Myself, I will be Passing Out
(20) And in this End: What Damages Shall be:-------àShall Be--------à“My-My-My Darling…”