hymonyx

what can I give to you
that I already have not offered,
or given, someone else?
You say Virginity
I start to blush
you draw closer
I laugh
and you revert
I say what is a Hymen and some blood?
you look perturbed;
I say what about your Hymen?
you cringe and say you don’t have one
I look at you and laugh
you get mad
I don’t care
I talk equal exchange
like a fair trade
or, like the evil stock market
I say you gotta buy shares to earn them back
but even then it’s never quite certain if you do get back
because that’s the way the ball — oh hymen, bounces
also if by trade or barter should I not get a Virgin for a Virgin?
or rather something intimate for an intimate?
You get mad and tell me to stop my madness
and then I laugh, but you shake me
you tell me to not laugh at you how dare I
I unhinge the lock — with the key I have inborn
and say look her macho
you want my Hymen broken for what purpose I don’t know
you probably say a lot of indirect things too but your goal
would be the same; you’d buy me things, you think my Hymen
is like a bag or a condom, something you can throw away right?
Then surely I must cut your balls off too or some layer of skin close
because they are what you don’t need
you stare at me, disturbed
I continue, I laughed for you, in a way I might not have for anyone
if you can’t read my laugh how can you read me down there
if a laugh escapes you then so will my erogenous, my clitoris
my breasts, my eyes, my tongue, my legs, my freckles, my moles
my rash on my upper left arm, the skin coloration near my right foot — you’d miss a cosmos because you were only concerned
on a meteorite that explode anyway and destroy you
you are a fool, a virgin fool who can probably make me come from between my legs but never me as a whole
you are not a lover, you are a virus who infects white blood cells
copies them (thus you’d copy my Hymen that which you claim you don’t have) and like the zombie viral you’ll just copy my personality
in blood and ejaculation; spreading out like a disease
I get up, you don’t move
I say you are completely devirginised
your Hymen has burst
you shout, what’s…what?
I say, your Hymen was your heart
and you punctured it and made it bleed
now there is no proof right?
That you are alive?
Funny, you have no womb
such a hollow chasm — how can I make love to you
when you have mutilated yourself by excluding
yourself from the 23 pairs?. ▬

scribbling on a coaster one evening

7% of battery life on my phone today
once upon a time of tic-tock Nokia days
my phone could lay unplugged for several days
whether I used it or not and ironically my smartphone is a multigrabber thus it consumes more
imitating the anatomy of work and diet and human body
of the now — smartphones are stressed out yo

the subways or trainlines or traffic meters are not bypassed here
like in street to street repertoire; but they lead elsewhere
what makes a first world, second world or third world and why are there only three when they are supposedly nine dimensions and polygons in between — math is pretty for instruction; bad for a reasonable account of things.

And logic is a patriarch using a sullen matriarch to beat money out of the pants of children with hallmark cards and Valentine restaurants; capis and commis drink water from the same cup, same tap but decide sitting together would be incest so leave the rest to be measured debates coordinated
and I the ballerina of biology sitting on a corner
trying to kiss the face of a BL anime guy because I have no date
and trying to miss the drunk flirt asking me what I am doing
I am not lonely because I don’t have a date, don’t have company
I am lonely because I am in a company, of bones
because some flesh eating bacteria from some world country
came and ate them clean
spared me for it got bored. ▬