Sniff;Get Laid; Poetic

Published on February 15, 2005 By propagandhi In Philosophy

His low hanging balls hit me shortly after he does. He hits me over and over again and it feels so good. I grab the bag for another snort, to make his love feel better than the next and the next better than the other. Let me descend in this sprial of self obsession and take chances of consequences I'm not ready to accept. His white reflection lit by the light from the bathroom light make him even more beautiful than yesterday's man. Certainly more beautiful than me.
As i melt in the heat of the ocean wind, I obsess over things not present. Perhaps things that will never be present again. Perhaps things I will enjoy all day every day later on in life

(8gatsu no mono desu)

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