If I can relax a few people
can admit the existence of
sex! I will have expectations
that will be beached and left to drown
I wait in the queue for the bank
of clouds, where the blue sky is cut.
and thats a wrap, people. Antique,
the vistas of the air become
animal in immense cuteness.
I say be jubilant we fuck
and that we generally want
nothing more than a quiet night
alone with the one we love, to
spoon and stuff but fuck also, now
the world has realised we gain
a world from admitting our roots
in the vast fields beside our friends
and cousins the bonobo, who
create literatures of sex
out of the grass, the leaves, the wind.
Some people scare at this freedom
to walk across and fall in love.
And of course this is my spectrum
analysis of loneliness