I opened them up just slightly, then in haste I departed
there creases and all that was inside spilt upon the floor.
I learnt from my first mistake, this wasn't the first time I had
opened one up. But the realization over took my needing and
what was within expelled so much held within,
mistaking what was and now spilt on the surroundings.

The next time I emptied them gently in to the tub,
I was slightly strange but I preferred to cut two open then
miss them in essence, I was hungry for what they had to give
and once I had my fill I discarded then to the side lingering
in a mess of what once was and what was partly tasted
sodden in the essence I had partaken to envelope them both in.

A few days later I had a taste for something different,
so I delved my knife into it. So seductive to watch
it break upon the skin, I scraped upon it and I licked
the knife like it was a lolly pop weeping essence on
my tongue. Then I spread it on the other then I lacerated
cutting it with a blunt knife, lusting the feel on my palm.

Do you know how long it takes to cut deep with a blunt
instrument. Time, and I adored the pleasure of the misery that
I felt when I finally ****** through from front to aft. I put the
blade down, and that piece that had became singular was now
digested within myself and it was salty going down. I ******
cereal every morning the aroma when descending exquisite.

I like you
We like you
She loves you
But I don't like me
I don't know if she likes me
For I am in love with a drunken woman
I follow her trail to bars
And clubs
And the like
I always leave early because she becomes lost in the crowd
She had has a beautiful way of becoming
One with those around her.
She dances herself drunk
And drinks
And walks
Until she finds her way to my place
She drinks a little more
She kisses me goodbye
For she has a dreadful date that cannot be missed
She is as drunk as I am drunk on her
I ask her to stay with me in the doorway.

She says she'll see me at breakfast.

Wind in my hair
I stretch my legs
Smell food in the air
count the lamppost pegs
a breezy, misty morning
boys playing ball
seagulls give storm warnings
we've got fourteen hours in all
play fights in the lot
before the night's coaches
the buffet's only got
moments before the crowd encroaches
only minutes before the breakfast buffet
and a tour of the city later today

Verandas at supper time & plates without rain
cutlery placates the hands to the vein.
We watch our fingers as they feed upon air;
our bodies moulded into the normailty of chairs
nostalgic is the taste of ravenous affairs.
Our hands grow tired of non-essential shoots
As we remember that this ritual is just displacing air.
Now clawing the ceramic, reaching for instinctual roots
beyond our own edible malfunction of sought repute
growing trained eyes for gnathic refute.
Now beyond the slumber of western lands
knife and fork asunder; we eat with our hands
now beyond rituals of conservative man.