|
My sex |
|
Waits for me |
|
Like a mongrel waits |
|
Downwind on a tight rope leash |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
Is a fragile acrobat |
|
Sometimes I'm a Novocaine shot |
|
Sometimes I'm an automat |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
Is often solo |
|
Sometimes it short circuits then |
|
Sometimes it's a golden glow |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
Is invested in |
|
Suburban photographs |
|
Skyscraper shadows on a car crash overpass |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
Is savage, tender |
|
It wears no future faces |
|
Owns just random gender |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
Has a wanting wardrobe |
|
I still explore |
|
Of all the bodies I knew and those I want to know |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
Is a spark of electro flesh |
|
Leased from the tick of time |
|
And geared for synchromesh |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
Is an image lost in faded films |
|
A neon outline |
|
On a high-rise overspill |
|
|
|
My sex |
|
My sex |
|
My sex |
|
... |
