Withhold love the way you turn your head.

While I've been sleeping you have already made it clear..


Get you up.


What gets you up?


Short answer must be, hands and knees, twisting of my gut. Anew.



Long answer is your spoke-easy, and I'm fucking angry!


(let us just touch, withhold touch and look into each others eyes)


Back to the corners are all your hopes petrified. Spittling through saliva from grinning teeth.


For you to meet.

And then they hurt.

And then they hurt.

And then they hurt.


So fight goes on.

Let there be light.

A thumb-ring trown as far as the heart can see.

Really it was always you. Puking on hand n' knee.

Touching me at the most vaporous of times.

Making me hit you.

Wanting to end you.