Misspoken broken half-truths and lies;
Classic.
The dump button glows nearby;
ten second delay.
Let 'er rip and kiss it goodbye.

The lifetime spent before it writhing in sheets,
hastily erected schemata with guts knotted up;
misjudged calculations and justifications -
not so easily dumped.

Tripped over admissions and half-felt surprise;
Classic.
The eject button lights up nearby,
hovered over with shaky digits.
Hit it quick and let 'er rip.
No time for goodbyes.

Count the secrets that you keep.
Fingers crossed the roof won't leak.
Took a chance and caught a peak.
Count your blessings and be careful what you seek.
Test the waters.
Talk is cheap.

Stolen dance with mistaken feet.
A lit up button to admit defeat.
Hesitate until it's too late to get away.
Classic.

It's like being writ into some melodramatic hit show,
playing the ******* who just can't commit no matter how far she's willing to go.

Check the thirst pic. I'm only here to give ****.

The epitome of undesirable megalomaniacal hit-it-and-quit-it,
I'm-only-in-it-for-the-**** type ****.

Not interested in a relationship.

When you say things like that, it has no effect.
I can't feel any of that.

We can wine and dine first, if you're a traditionalist.

Just setting the stage for the main event. Give it 'til she gets it so she can tell all her friends: best I've ever had. **** like your poor with demons on your back. After curtain call, skip the bow and exit stage-left.

What bae wants, bae gets.

Tbh, idk what do we call each other.

Her body is covered in marks, symbols, phrases in different languages. I trace the coils of the snake on the back of her neck as she sits between my legs in the bath tub.

Style above everything else, arced over a faced half-sun dawning above her *** crack.

"You're into fashion," I said, as I re-position my shaft from P to R to feel some friction below the horizon.
She wiggles her bottom after the gear shift.

"Yes, very much."

You can call me whatever you want.
If I told you I ****** a girl last night, would your feelings be hurt?

Did you?? Be honest.

Side by side in bed, breathing heavy, sweaty, spent:
"Nihongo ga benkyo . . . I want to learn more Japanese so I can talk to Japanese girls. Nihon josei . . . is it josei?"

"Un, Nippon josei. Japanese women."

"Nippon josei ga kirei desu . . . Japanese women are the most beautiful in the world."

She said something I didn't understand, then,
"like dolls?"

I shouldn't have said anything . . . I just don't want you to get too attached or to think that I'm your boyfriend.

Ok.

Omoshiroi
is what I said, after too many seconds of staring,
offered up as a solution to what seemed to be causing such confusion.
This was before I'd learned the word sukebe, which, in hindsight, would have served better.

Nonetheless, she agreed. Omoshiroi, hontoni.
Surely, an interesting turn of events, indeed.

Youthful, virile energy, at this time of day, in this kind of place,
with one such as she, with such a wizened face.

Omoshiroi, she said, after I came;
partly in relief, partly in disbelief.
Iku, iku, iku, she'd said, while we were in bed,
and I still wonder if
it was just flattery.

omoshiroi,
she said, once again, as the elevator took us down,
her cheeks turning red.
hontoni, I agreed,
before walking out into daylight
pondering the limits of vocabulary.

Broke the surface with the provided bucket.
His face followed shortly after.
Proud as a father
of the fortune contained therein.

Gold-plated doubloons and dyed resin jewels
planted there by employees that very morning.

Side by side,
rows and ranks, cow hide, leather flanks.
Hard to the bone.
Tough to penetrate.

Don't go thinking any connection is a thing.
Don't go justifying would-be mistakes.
People are people,
even when reduced to a number.
(Especially when reduced to a number.)

What are the odds of this sum equaling one?
Nevermind.
There is a mission,
and work to be done.

Blue marble,
lifeless eye.
Rotten cherry scented earth.

Nuisances poking up,
being pulled out -
composted for new dirt.

Don't you go getting sedimental on me.
Grains of insignificance ingratiating themselves in want of new life.

Rotten blueberry orb.
Fermented fungal stink.
A world in full decay.
Eyes that cannot blink.