24Jul/110
You Are December
There is nothing but gumption. Your skin is a bag
to your body of nerve and I feign unnerve.
The boy to whom the first penis I'd ever seen belonged said,
"You know, there are no bones, just blood and flesh." I, today, feel
comparable, suspecting lies.
Still, what one thinks must be the case must surely be the case sometimes.
At best I have some gump, at best four paces short -
The only person I'd rather be with than you is myself, so
your choked throat will be salved by Chloroseptic which is me.
Lost in your synesthesia, I taste like everything and look like nothing -
This all makes sense, like I've known it before; and
When I sell myself I price discriminate like a motherfucker.
