Love is for mindless whores
wandering for a fix, page after page
stumbling drunkenly into the arms of a new lover.
Scratching off the covers, and tearing into each new chapter
devouring each other's tales, desires, and woes.
Lifting their voices higher and higher into the night
the rhythm drags on and further into the electric sky.
Numbed by their own displays of pain and frustration,
frozen by the stark naked whiteness.
Filling into an unreached form,
untranslatable loss, search, and reconnection.
Folding through each and into other,
merging of cosmic connections
writhing and disarming both writer and reader.

I fonud myself reflected through another women's body
realizing the woman I have become
We have studied her form, dissected her intellect and capacity.
She has fulfilled her duty with the paragraph,
She has written herself away senslessly.
She hates her body like she hates her ideas sliding of a pen.
Awkward and exposed
Tired, original, and amused.
She has the eye and ears of money, glory, gore.


I want someone who look's like you, screws like you and I know sometimes you like to.
wandering into a jar, staring from a far
my love in car, wandeirng through the starry streets, dragging his feet
I told him to meet me in a bar.
But when he took out his light, we got in a fight
and made up in the car.
not evevn the chariots can chase after him
we lost all might and gave in to foolish whims
not even the truth was held in her whispers

And never wait for him again, not even a friend, can hold me down.


And at times, lazy, wandering, and unfocused.