Sex Ed

Piss scented cushion
seated in the tower of babel
(human birdsong fallen in my ears),
I travel through time,
live in seasons unoccurred,
waiting on Tomorrow Girl.

She runs late but comes soon.

15 minutes declined;
I'm gonna swallow this
(pulse pounding temple pressure).
Digest her name
write it on the mirror
in every two bit room
of every three bit town
I ever stay in.

(Alone, mostly, clinging when I’m not.)

I have forgotten seduction more complicated
than “Yes”, “Do” and/or “Please”,
but my lovers are complicated humans.
I will be a student forever.