the plague

heal thy

self or watch

dis ease

spread you

from others

until there is

no an other

just you

a lone body

and goo die

*

yawning universes

or just hungry

for another one

that makes me bang

out of this boredom of

what does it mean

to not make sense

but to be essentially mean still

because are you even listening

do you even hear me

what the hell

which reminds of the spaghetti sound

that is here from before

telling secrets of only if

and another universe

i don’t know but that

doesn’t know mine either

with its coffee shop and

scraps and

this that thats later

on

*

accidental sex

from buds to breasts

that people claim to like

more than the wings

that look more like arms

starving for purpose

but find themselves found

by a tender meet

a few drinks

to wash down the taste

a sex accidental

from a winter waiting

for spring’s sound

and the bloom of flowers

that fuck themselves

before we do it to them

for them

for us

in his hands

wilting