Condition the water
Condition the fish in the stream
I’m kissing, caressing the gleam
Caress the reflection of something unseen
Reject any introspect
Sex… We make love to machines.

…Maybe it’s Maybeleine…
Maybe a saber-toothed lazer beam
Slices of vaginal lips, nips the clitoris
Spaying the nation of Africa, anyway, save the queen.
Ivory sea, jade green sky
In the blink of an eye
Of the man in machine
Who still stands behind something unseen.

…Maybe a dream…
Label me crazy, just play with my Venus
Your hands become butterflies, tied to the ocean
Your navel breeds scarabs, come lay in between us.