Got fucked some boy wanted to marry you

Morning

How long does
devastation last?
I need to write you
something, hearing
you in silence. You're
too quick, knowing, when
you speak or keep
the floors turning. This
is not turning out too well, you're
too, words
are not truth and you are
slipped, slipped, leaning
toward morning.

I blow hair on the floor
and it lands on my toe.
You have nice ears.
I want to lick them.
Naked in the laundry room, stoned
and black-eyed, sitting
in the cat's places to know her day.

How can I see others succeed. I'm
a sensualist. I ate lunch and what
would you believe, what
I would get
from wearing
someone else's shorts
is itchy.

Raw plants with oil on it
oil on it raw and there's
where I left my seed
inside, I fucked up so bad,
but I'm a harsh taste in numbness,
a little weak around the eyes.
Outward, inward we are walled in
fields, clay, in our garden
and here I come. How.
We are passionate boys.