Sheet, white against the morning light
each stain a volume in this novella, my life
i could tell you of this strange mundanity
punctuated by points of bright, hard suck and thrust
and washed clean, consecrated with the sweat of lust

“Take Me” she moaned, and the room still echoes with the cries
of plastic love, synthetic emotion, i do not want “Fuck Me”,
and she opened herself, each stretch marked limb, thrown
east to west she reached inside to find the last, the glamour
she had hidden on the shelf to make him blind to her, to make him pleased

Indentation where they lay, me and you
where my self loathing made a valley
for the river of my blood, your slick stained heart
closed, push, thrust close your eyes
my soft white body, love, against my fat white thighs

Clothed, i stand with mockery
who points, and laughs at that sex stained part of me
this is the lucre that i buy your love with
this little girl inside had run and hid
she does not want a part of what i did

Broken i am for lying and for lie – ing
i have no more than air and sweat to give
Oh sorrow's heart, why does it hurt
i cannot claim to have morality
i signed the contract on the sheet, the backseat of your
car, the street in crimson letters i said, take my soul

i have no use for this big, gaping, hole