my lover's rose lays untouched
though it is a plastic rose
it falls down
into my hopes.
It shows it'self plain and barren
sparklingly white.
My house smells of death
while my lover's smells of exotic cuisine
and with an ear shattering crash
it falls and burns into my flesh
my lovers flesh
that is yet to be discovered.
My lover gives me presents
from countries far away
my lover smells of imported perfume.
My lover will import me his love
for the love of generations
for the love of people
for the love of faith.
We tumble and fall-
me and my lover
and the smell of my lover is unique
it will cover me up someday
cover me way up in his trends.
They spread the word over miles
Lesbians and transvestites.
And just when they were falling down
they found a way to cover up.
National television, is a different league
where our morals crumble and spin into a complex
of limited interests and limping desires,
of barking and falling antenas
we will tune up to degrade our eyes, our children.
My lover lives with me
though his love is a plastic love
and it falls down to the earth before blooming
and crumbles into little white pieces of rosewhite glass.
my lover reveals my wounds
medium rare wounds
tasty wounds.
my lover comes to me
just the way I cum.
my lover is as real as me
yes,
my lover will reveal himself, before all of them
on National TV .
and find me in a deserted place
yes,
my lover is real, as
AS,
real as me.