Probably the most positive and... "Romantic" thing I've ever written.

We’re All.

Softly framed within the infinite complexities of the flesh
Floats the consciousness.
Falls the shadow upon it,
Blinds the light,
The haunting ghost in the machine,
Veiled by two eyes
And frail words.
Minds that have such deep waters that we see but our own reflection in them.
Those sacks of mostly water
That stumble around
Breath before the plunge.
We smile
And fade away.
He lived, he fucked, he read the papers, he died.
There an end.

That’s not the end,

I’m a dreaming cynic,
Who can only write in words.
I see girls are whores and not lovers.
And making love is just fucking to me.
A hollow heart pumped up with pornography
Whats wrong and what's right, is what I can do. My fist is my morality.
Sex on tap.
Might makes right.
Love by a noose.
I’ve never loved, I’ll never be loved.

In life there’s so much more. Then what that has been before.
The touch of pale skin, as someone undresses in front of you.
The smell of fruit in a girl’s hair.
Or sunlight on a pair of red lips coming towards your own.
And the slow deliberate movements of a pair of hips.
Rubbing against your own.
Two physical creatures exploring their own features.
Or the last rapture breath of movements well spent,
A torso on torso.
And the heavy breathing mouth to mouth
Dissect it if you must, it’s all biological, I don’t fucking care.
It’s good.
Mind to mind.
Skin to skin,
Shed within,
A lonely life.
This empty strife,
This pleasured life.
Floating like something that floats in a sinking current.
I’ll find a wife, or eat a peach on a deserted beach. Suck the leach.
Life is, whatever,
Life is,
I’ll live it.
Till I die.

A statistic of numbers past zero.
Fit within a graph a life, it will shatter the axis like prison walls.
The only average is eccentricity.
Flesh and water can mimic the divine.
This sexy, awkward, slippery shrine.
A line from mine to yours.
Sex sells,
Sell me yours.
Dear.

Contradicting sense. Good, bad, evil pure, dirty. Such is life.
The pleasures of this strife.
We're all dead in the end, we're all alive now.
Everyone who reads this is alive.
Think about it untill you think no more.