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fuckbuddies always ask me:   when will i see you again?                             oh gosh


please don’t future-tense me


                                                            i have prepared a place for you          says god



                        what                                        no thanks


                        what does the bible say again


in the beginning:                     god allowed fucking


at the end:                               blake slips out of the door


                                                                             yeah, something like that


            so then i feel up the city                     flirt with the moon                 


if the moon is shacked        up with someone else        i flirt with whoever i can


                        and most of the time it’s marx                                                but tonight he’s aggressive


he follows me back into my apartment          knocks over my notched bedpost


            doesn’t apologize                    oh well

                                                                                    i forgive him               this is a holy space


he wants to lie down with me             but i tell him no


and he doesn’t seem to understand                                                     i say


inside of this temple i follow the mantra of milk cartons:                 


after use—discard


and so he leaves                      perfect and still untouched                


and as i watch him walk down the street


i clutch his manifesto                          i hear it saying:                                  


thank you                    you haven’t disappointed me yet