this maligned soul
speechlessly awaits with lips bound
by butter soft feelings
forever melting on the tip of tongue
with its lies and doubts forever right
there graphic and visceral in minds eye
having reached the edge between this and all other human beings
she asks from the other side how it feels
asks if it would be all right to venture
my emptiness finds no objection
just objectification
pant and release the guttural sounds
where they seem to be heard
wish  it was more
but its just empty push push push push
i cant  feel anything
should that make me sad
she asks how that makes me feel
i just look out at her perfections and softness wares
with a maze of questions
and a thousand lies
to cover the obscenely unclad
to remove the dried stain
in my eyes
don't touch me
don't touch me