Olde City

    Went to a sex dentist's weird art studio in excitement-prone Olde City. Went to a chicken Nazi souffle soup restaurant. I was looking for renaissance angels that were renaissance angels, and the fact that you are, in fact, underneath my skin, holding me like a stiff-cock'd rag doll. I found this to be as true as slanting sunlight's cast-iron heft.

    i found myself in you in all the blue smoke of chill dark. i'm tripping through Olde City stoned weird. i could feel you unfurling my cast-iron skin. you said "bleed" and i bled. a hop skip and a jump we into each other's telepathy and all fall down. and all fall down in the fact that we are true. i could feel it in the cloudiness of boning you. i knew. she knew. we knew.