Everyone Is Sexy

She sat across from me while I shoveled a Belgian waffle in my face. I said I didn't know what to do. She assured me I had been bitten again. Accused me of being like a man she used to know and still loved. I grinned with syrup on my chin and shirt. She knows I like the highs. The speed of the plane before takeoff. Control of an all consuming fire with flour and a garden hose. Stepping in shit just to make the day pass. Giving the world something to talk about. Putting the thrill back in death. Tans without sunscreen. A bloated body ripped and bursting at the middle. I visited him today just to remember his smile. Everyone is sexy. She says, I don't know what to call you but I knew you were strange for a long time. You've got puppet eyes now and that's the threshold. But your skin is gorgeous and that's why other women hate you. I left a quarter of my breakfast for my ancestors to pull me away unscathed from this situation. The she Evel Knievel of carnality. I rolled the dice and bet I can keep secrets.