Early morning, cafe with wooden tables and leather coated chairs,
Cookies and cooling coffee have their own vitalities.
So many Suns i have seen from this filthy window glasses,
Eventless lives of groceries and unfinished orgasms have just started to walk through the corridors.
Practice the bows, this world says practice the bows.
Nah! Not today.
Oh boy! Today is the day to capitulate inside the entity of this woman.
Mad hairs all over the places and from the viscerous self; two eyes, grapes like, wooven words like.
Sipping something surreal something smokey,
all kinds of poetries, ha ha, all kinds of poetries, she made of.
Don’t ever touch her, for God’s sake don’t ever touch her,
fucking wolves ain’t gonna touch the molecules, just flesh… craving flesh.
A minute, and gone! that’s the last closing of her eyelashes I am gonna behold,
Let me go over their and touch the air around her quintessential ass.