The more you love humanity the more you loathe humans individually. That's what the thorny poet said, anyways. Each time you touch warm lips another word sucks from your vocabulary, a thought dissolves at your throat. The leaves with poison ivy shiver. Should we stop fishing for sacrifices? Leave the nails for wood? Stop showing our bloody palms to the fortune teller just so she can tell us every great idea has a jesus figure? The future cheapens when you try to calculate it, a moment broken into a tumult of minutes, numbers that numb an experience. The smashed telephone still rings. We can’t make a decision but we can’t stay in bed. The water running across your desk reaches for a shape and the window waits for a baseball to break it into pieces.
Corey
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You cheated so now I cheated.
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