Saturday 2/03/2007 12:16:00 AM

This is your life from now on. Baited skin. Fishing for a more appropriate lie. Silent auctions in your head disposing of everything. People used to be the vacations I would take. To get away from myself. Strangers used to be the currency I'd sell myself against.

But there's no gold to guarantee their touch. Once it's gone. It's gone for good.

Fractions in every moment debating denominators. The lines between us choosing our sum.

Rubbings of the window burst from the walls. As they blink frantically. Seeing for the first time.

Everything I'm not.

A chorus of lovers harmonizes my skin. In the elegant suicide every orgasm predicts.

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