- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Jung at Heart
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Everyday, I start a letter and change my mind. I don't think anything would change if I were to send them. I ran over a dead squirrel in the street just to see of I could do it. Later while I was driving for breakfast one scurried into the street. I cursed it and it turned around before I had the opportunity to determine if I could kill something. The only man who can make me blush is in love with my boyfriend. When he sees me he thinks of his friend and the taste of my lips upon his lips. His lips upon his. Lips. Mouth; tongue. When my father introduced himself to me, he took the opportunity to use allegory to assure he would not be forgotten. The mark of a cruel man. The crux, he is ignored. The mark of a cruel man's seed. He is a hunter of men. I am strictly Freudian.
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