Prognosis:
she’s a goddamn liar. And a proficient one at that. Look, son,
It’s all in the squint, LOOK! Don’t bother moving, she’s already inside you laughing like a time-bomb inside the joker–like potent young love using “yes” words to form acts of violation that can only be seen by lovers and by lovers who mean it I mean really mean it–guaranteed to die alive, expecting everything from the return and also maybe a little more room to perform the one act play they’d been screaming along all across time, to analyze every gaze on all the tiny little faces— and there it was and it was and it was everywhere and inside every trace their could be and every single body who spat cracked laughed got back up cracked laughed got back up and RAN———————————run!
you good for something awful filth,——— you scum-scabbed freak of romanticism,
so much class in your left hand right hand
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