As if intensity were a virtue we say
good and. Good and drunk. Good and dead.
What plural means is everything
that multiplying greatens, as if two
were more like ninetynine than one,
or one were more like zero than
like anything. As if
you loved me, you will leave me.
As if friends were to be saved
we are friends. We talk to ourselves,
go home at the same time.
As if beds were to be made
not born in, as if love
were just heredity
we know the worst, we fear
the known. Today we were bad
and together; tonight
we’ll be good and alone.
Thank you, normal updating will resume soon hopefully!
Why thank you, I’ve been very negligent with my Tumblr of late but your words have kicked me into gear, thanks for following, there’ll be masses of updates shortly!