I can feel it seizing understanding beating against words fleeting through space as I run up this slippery staircase I know so well, the one, with the black tape to gripe my fall, despite the rise, I feel, I am landing every time - each foot, an undulation of fear to let go, is to stand still fixed in emotions once heard and said, said fairly obtuse, so I say love does not exist. Love is existing like it exists between my thighs stroke nothing too long though because violence is en-vitiable as is love projecting the desire for the absolute insatiable. insatiable. I need. I want. I feel helpless in your devotion to me, in your separation from me from me to you, to you I'm in a - and there you have it.