I want to fuck you.
Fuck with you.
please to a tease and a curl
with the Pixies playing in the background
Raw rubbed and sinewy.
crescendo to zenith.
Forget sleep, forget work.
Come here and let me pull you on.
No talk, to ensconced paragraphs of literary effusiveness
Just Death to the Pixies and thrown sheets.
Perhaps some eggs and toast in the morning,
maybe some talk of how we got here and where
we want to go.
But now, right now?
Vamonos de isla de encanta.
