One in da pink, three in da stink.
Yo momma ain't complainink.

OP and his dad sitting in a tree
S H I T P O S
T I N G

Stench of unspoken longing, sticky fingers, mind's eye penetrating blouse, scouting about in her, eh, what did you say? Oh yea, that sounds really banal. Sitting two minds next to each other distanced by walls of impenetrable flesh, eternally removed, two minds that have long forgotten telepathoid mind language of yore, the horrors creep in: You can smell and hear and see your darling slowly accept the language of the body as her own, crude movements of tongue and vocal chords forming "vowels", bowing to "phonology", expressing "thought". Not long and she will have succumbed, accepted the brain's thought command as her own free will. Raw animal magnetism is what guides your attraction, non-sexually, estranged from all that is bodily, pure putrid aesthetic value of mind beyond realm of words. Process perceived as subconscious, attentive silence of mind turning up the volume hear a whisper or mechanic whistling background noise, the brain as an ineffective receiving agent of mind. Imperfect. Form and rule imposed through unfit structure of meat prison. Sharpen your inner nose, your inner ears, ethereal ectoplasmic fish eyes, apprehending stimuli before physical sensor complex steals them away and perverts them. Millions upon millions of lived through selves for everly locked in grey cells til death. Sealed with a kiss mail afoot messenger ghost pigeon escapes neuro-jail, journeys up own and down her throat upon contact of lips, caress of shoulder, mimicking oneness, a silly sight, an embarrassing shadow of real sensation, of soul contact, which would require energy unavailable at this point in evolutionary chain. Two poisoned, two imprisoned, sitting opposite one another on picnic blanket, eyes locked as dust settles in deep entrenchments of skin, wind blows, over the course of centuries flattening and abrading atrophied grimaces of deep-rooted mutual indifference. No movement can be detected. For the first two weeks occasional bursts of urine and fecal matter; Love.

An old man lying in bed and darkness wakes up, outside his chilly fort the first fall of snow. He reaches for a small can of snus, administers a dose and returns into the warmth of a womb with quilt his overhead.

the day arrives when the feeling is gone and what remains is a determination