After your lecture on
polyphase something-or-the-others
we meet at my house which is also
your house. We were going to make dinner
but
you're wearing those square black glasses and
a tight lacy blouse and
that **** pencil skirt that hugs your ***
and those black stilettos and
I can't help myself. I lean
across the stove and twirl
it off, condemning the pasta to half-cookedness
and then I
grab you around the waist
pull you flush against me
and kiss you breathless
one hand on the small of your back
the other
on your *** kneading and squeezing
eliciting gasps from your parted lips that
end up between my teeth.
your trembling hands frantically
unbuttoning my shirt as I unzip your
skirt and throw it to the corner your
blazer and castaway your
blouse and then you're in your
bra and dampened *******, fingernails
scratching and raking and clawing at
the small of my back with your
legs spread in an inverted triangle and your
tongue in my mouth. I unsnap your
bra and moments later your
******* are under lipsteethtongue and then
lipsteethtongue
kisssuckbite
lower
and
lower
until
lipsteeth­tongue
kisssuckbite at
your ******* and your
***** until
gasping squealing moaning
you ****** your
juice in my
mouth and on my
lipstongueteeth.
The pasta is wasted.

we built our love like Rome built an empire; we built it over years and generations of pregnant moments; we built it to conquer; we built it to last as if unaware of empires' propensity to crumble around those who loved it best. maybe that was the problem, that we loved our empire of adoration and not each other. perhaps we were too enraptured with how good we were together: we always made your friends jealous, we took the best photos together, my parents loved you better than they did me. maybe we were too wrapped up in We and forgot to worry about we. we fought our battles, our Pugachev's Rebellions and our Glorious Revolutions. we were so secure within the city limits we forgot there was a whole world out there, and by the time we tore down the walls to find a world awaiting, we were obsolete; we thought we hadn't needed anyone, and now no one needed us.

I am afraid to look in mirrors
I hate what I see
There's a sadness far beyond those lifeless eyes
There's a loneliness far beyond that distant smile
and
There's a pain,
Pain that I cause
Pain that I need

*I only wish one day you take away my despair

where do i go from here
now that you're gone

where do i stay
now that you've moved on

i have no home
because your arms were my shelter

and
you have moved away

away to some new beautiful place

Between the pages are the lies that rise up when you least expect and change the plot,
just, when you think you've got the gist
you find there's something that you missed and the story's back to front.

There's a party going on next door,which started about five before the hour of four and I am really cheesed off and sore that the neighbour (the little ****) didn't see fit to invite this boy so he could enjoy a jive or the twist or a tango,a slow dance,a chance for a whirl with a girl, so I shall complain,
if he doesn't invite me there'll be no parties again,he can do as I do and listen to BBC radio two.

Back to the book because that's all I've got and some cold beans with spinach which I left in the *** for my tea ,don't worry about me I'm on chapter three and there's eight more to go,
and what do you know,there's a knock on my door and my very nice neighbour says,
'there's a party going on, what are you waiting for?'
Now I feel dumb,the noise abatement society will come and it'll be all my fault,so I say thanks for the invite, decided to stay in for the night,close and bolt my door and with my head in my hands
progress to chapter four.