I want to fuck so many people with their clothes on,
That way you can still see their faces,
They tempt me with their very existence,
Just existing is enough for me sometimes,
Even if I don’t know who I’m being – or why,
Or if they are the same person as a moment ago,
Contact devolves into struggle between barriers,
Tender or vitriolic; abstract collisions,
We separate - only to plunge back in,
And it never lasts long,
Let us be together in our lonesomeness,
And forget we can't bear to share it.
I think, or thought, or perhaps it was you,
I'm left unsure and thinking it strange,
That from time to time I forget where I end,
Are we close enough yet, to swap schisms like saliva?
Let us watch the fluid flood the world and set us free,
Drowning victims of instrumentality,
Stricken of a selfish desire to put aside the self,
We separate, like ripples on a blank shore,
And I lay helplessly falling into you,
Awaiting reverb of perpetual orgasm,
But all I feel is an echo of my own ego,
Then forsake hope you were ever there at all.