EXITstentialism

you want a little bit
of a drunkard's wisdom so you
dock with him new sweat and
fermentation and old sweat
his kisses like gnaws
you wonder if the wetness you
feel allover is his spit or
your blood the tingles do
not come easy finally they 
rush in mumble hi grab a snack
and weave out just like you
do when you visit your
mother
his fingers feebly attempt to
pleasure you but it is more
like a lost legion of worms
more purposefully his other
hand pulls yours to him
you think you know what to
do and it seems to make
his grin harder close his
eyes tighter you are a whore
a slut a nogood tramp dirty
little bitch you swear that's
what his groans say in between
his choked breaths and 
often it's over before it
gets started and you see
there's no use sticking
around but the
exit doors are crowded
over you push thru
and i am some
where in that
crowd and
maybe one of your
curves will brush
against one
of my 
angles
as the swarm
separates 
us
forever

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