i would let her do anything to me, and encourage the advanced stages of her itinerary at the point of our meeting; likewise, i would hope that she would let me do anything to her; thus, we would be two consenting adults, with nominal age difference, doing unto each other what we would want done unto ourselves (which may involve good balancing skills); and should she write a thinly veiled fictional account of our engagements, i would offer it be called 'larry david' or 'jeremy irons'; and i would not edit the scene where i sing to her like lou reed over two chords as if sound itself might end, my bed bath & beyond sheets beyond laundering, her glistening dollops slowing crusting under the moon's glare, bangs moved to the side as i commemorate every atom of this satanic child, from her forehead, to nose, to chin...down the path towards her fervent darkness still swollen from my better effigy, forever blind inside the human mess of fuck soup