His truth is in-between her legs. – He says: would you even care if that is truly what i meant,… that what you felt between my thighs was nothing more than your imagination half-gone on Valium-and-youth?
Would you even care that that thin threading of Cum, – dripping from Pisces, as well as those curious folding’s of the sheets,… just before the first stretch of Dawn consumes the Larkspur, might hold the same symbolic properties as Asphodels?
Would it end,… or even change the empty blotted faces of Daises from raising their arrogant Beauty so Freely before the hollowed-out minds of the nameless populations Mad with Banality and Obesity?
And here, – in giving her response, – she neither moved, – nor surrendered, when she gave her response: Go-ahead then if that is how you wish to spend your evening….
Go-ahead then and cry me your Rivers. Impale my soul with your morbid drunken melodies of self-consumed industrial frustrations. Weep me your depth-less pain that you Romanticize and imagine to weigh so heavily upon the Madness of the Trees.
Go-ahead then! Now that you have seen, Freely, and with no regrets, on my part, exposed,… the way that this Sad Suburban Disease licks like a blistered tongue to my Breast!