Sunday, September 27, 2009

item #0002

Alphan capacity, inclined a fortiori toward extremitous, however. A seeper, incredulous. Tell me I'm the fictive one. I know, and I am told, I too influence authorities in mind. Craze me away; as a finishing device, downloaded, nominal. It's no form of natural justice, I realise. Pet theories gather, too bold and too precise. I seek only your body, though. I am about those entrances, merely loitering, but with good intent. Be my love. Be my only love. I insist upon our singularity and all that that might entail. Let's shake a happy fist at God, in irony. Earth is a gallows. Why spit when one can swallow?

You and I, my love ... we are mutual.