Rainbow envelope, crying soul, smile, smile … face the camera, perfect, yes, you’re perfect again, launched immediately into cididelic deception, fully equipped with her ambiguities, with her codes so casted, with her racial rulings so ruthless, and so easily, cinematically, the alien falls. Salary man and the ghetto beauty, down at the meat packing district.
– been with city?
– been with it?
– ha, that’s what he says? Like that, huh?
There she leads him, sensitive to his needs, the complete experience.
Oh but well … she’s just no good at reading him, she’s out of her depth. Look here, now he’s curled up in fetal position, he’s freaking out and overdosed on his own poisonous religion.
– they checked him out, for irregularities. but he was clean. It was the stress that did it to him. fuck, it could have been me. Oh fuck, It could have been me.
Oh the existential indignity of it all!
– let it all out, you’ll feel better.
– fuck, I’m sorry.
Consolation after his wrists are slit. Consolation after all is said and done: jerking off to that amazing body, writhing, shaking that ass like a mother fucker whoo! Consolation after his wrists are slit. Look at em titties bounce.
– juicy clit.
– imma dominant.
– I’m so into you.
She leaves. Leaves me to take that final, faceless leap.
With his mind thus annulled, loving, lustful and lost, I’m still so into you. But this isn’t doing me any good. It’s not.