Work Text:
when im chasing a feeling i remember that your yellow throat feels like a thumb who stole the last time you felt like a whole person who was human before the aftermath of the chaotic triumph that is the opposing peace thats when forces become trivial to win you must seek the clear path to the end of the bottom where nothing hides but mirrors perfectly intact to show you the nonexistence of perfection and social rigidity in the lock buried underneath the top of her keys as she dangles the tongue with seduction and whisper hot cheeto breath i cannot resist so i ask how she is doing and i am met with an eye roll for being a boring guy with little to offer because he holds the minds to the standards of the highest pristine to hide what holds him inside the description of a san archer shooting his shot to the ground because the sun is blinding and the chance you had to understand me was between the space