My s*x
Waits for me
Like a mongrel waits
Downwind on a tight rope leash
My s*x
Is a fragile acrobat
Sometimes I'm a Novocaine shot
Sometimes I'm an automat
My s*x
Is often solo
Sometimes it short circuits then
Sometimes it's a golden glow
My s*x
Is invested in
Suburban photographs
Skyscraper shadows on a car crash overpa*s
My s*x
Is savage, tender
It wears no future faces
Owns just random gender
My s*x
Has a wanting wardrobe
I still explore
Of all the bodies I knew and those I want to know
My s*x
Is a spark of electro flesh
Leased from the tick of time
And geared for synchromesh
My s*x
Is an image lost in faded films
A neon outline
On a high-rise overspill
My s*x
My s*x
My s*x
...