i want your infinite: a thought, or nineteen
i bleed like my veins pumping
whiskey down my throat, sliding like
undeniable and unreachable
galaxies; can i reconvene my
respite or, uh… and mm,
god i want your infinite,
i want your tactile, your
chaotic shame, your brilliant.
or: you could just
listen to my throbbing,
mindless vocal…
SOOOO good.