- Next »
- « Previous
she fucked like a phrenologist
Can't it just come down to phrenology, cant you just leave it up to that baby? Nothing else has worked. We've tried it all and look at us, we keep failing. I say happy birthday. Someone uses my mouth, but they are just a stranger. I'll use both my hands, all ten fingers. If you need me to, I'll take my shirt off, or maybe I'll just talk a lot. You can hear how my voice sounds and watch it come out of my mouth, you can think about my lungs. You'll be close enough to touch them if you want to-not my breasts of course, but my lungs, my breathing.
I'll have to do this baby, I'm sorry, I wish we could do it some other way- but we have used them all up. I wish we could keep using government phone services, or writing letters we'll never send, I wish we could keep on with these words we use or that you'd count your dollars and take me to the movies or I could write you an e-mail, but I know damn well- Christ baby, you know damn well too, that we don't have those options anymore.
We have run out of options so now all we have left is our bones. And babe, I know we have those. Those are facts. Bones, blood, skin, cells. We have to know that, don't we baby? We could sit here again reciting each others life history, but baby, we're so sick of it. You know this is all we have left. So shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up and let me find the answers. Shut the fuck up and I'll finally figure it out, Ill figure it out by touching your skull.
