Why did you love denim
in that way? The long
arm-finger that law abided
and you did not.
Needled itself into the cut
on Christ's chest: warm
inside, and moist,
but not wet. It was like
playing a few silent
hands of hearts and not
sex. Where sex is the
gash that was rent
there the day before.
Lamborghini-gun, how
most of your surfaces are
near parallel to the ground,
with a lupine bent
inclined forward. The basso
plays the main roll on this
one. Coming back:
the organs and soft
and dense and wet
inside that can be felt
through the plasticy casing.
It is scary to touch them.
The entrails are hot
indigo fiber and urea
sloshing about.
Denim stoking it.
