Embedded Files
as I stand in my living room
on a Wednesday morning
licking the leftovers
off the biohazard tangerine back cover
of How To Live Safely in a Sciencfictional Universe
as the methyl
octane
trigger
crisp sting
trips my taste buds like the
switchback on a circuit overclocking
immediately
too alive and already dying
burning like heat off another body
a tingling sensation in naked space:
I may have a problem
You feel
powerful
( capable )
like you could
manifest anything
but what you want is
sex
the tactile
to fall apart
and into someone else
because their slick skin
their beating heart
their fingers in your hair
on your neck
( in your mouth )
still taste like candy
Because the weight of them
on top of you is finite
because the shapes we wriggle ourselves into
in the presence of other people
because of the holes we need to fill
like the stars in your eyes
the scars on your body
like an ochre handprint
on the walls of Chauvet
they mean something
You were here
you
lived
thought
ate
slept
fucked
felt
even if it was only ever that electric numb
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