In this lonely summer Loves were hanging on trees People picked them up Brought them to their houses Peeled the skin of their suffering By the nails of their soft hands Sometimes they cut them with their immature knives Warm in room temperature Hot in their ovens Or keeping them expecting whisperings In the night chillness of their refrigerators Man to a woman to a man Hungry for moans Stubs their tooth In the morning of their sweet flesh.
this is really nice. the first time i read it, it kind of confused me but by the third time i got it and it spoke to me.
