God i'm sorry we fucked up earth. i'm also sorry i said fuck.
she carries herself with all the bashful poetry of someone's precious daughter who has had far too much to drink. slender legs as supple as a young trees smooth green branches and you offer them to the hyena's by saying 'oh but i come of age soon and you're welcome to visit'. what you have actually said to them is 'i come of age soon and i will be alone. bring your hunger'. so don't you wonder. i assure you they will be coming. sodden wet and unashamed as if they had just stepped out of a steaming shower. but don't think that this means they are clean. oh i assure you they will be coming. and when they do i doubt you will be ready. they don't see those perfect teeth. those rows upon rows of delicate unstained china. all they want is to be behind them. perhaps i assume to much. perhaps you are use to being the feast of businessman who can't even finish his meal without breathing heavy. perhaps you enjoy the stretching of your back over a mattress under the pressing of lust and human appetite. she holds her body with all the inarticulate mumbling, trembling coordination and desperate drunkeness of a friend who promised she would go easy tonight just to make sure you didn't do anything you would regret. paper thin nails that slide over the false wooden surface of the table as she hands me a note. 'you are beautiful and i love you. she inserts her number here.' but tonight her attempts to get me in to a bed, or what these days what we refer to as love, has found me without that appetite. thank God i'm not that bare headed boy i buried says that tongue inside of me. but at times my skin still feels guilty and my bedroom eyes begin to weep. and what do i know but that everytime i leave someone else with all the boldness of a vulture who strips free the flesh of an animal that is still breathing that i am even closer to becoming my father's son. oh God all i want is a balance in between this and the curtain of religion i see draped around their pining waists to hide that pulse that is humanity.