Swap Meet
They make lies to one another no one tells the core fibers of their selves to answer please another with the fibrous replies of carefull understudied lies they are yearning for more lies. They shake hands with no one they have the mouse and the tomb to keep them
occupied they lie lie lie in the dark decay afraid to gather moss
afraid to turn to clay moving in a natural rhythm like sex put to music meaning very little to the observer meaning everything to them that touch and kiss poor widows do it in the dark nocturnal night feelings soon replace the natural professional way of doing things they trade and barter for their love amiss in missed arousal
in fetishes and lust they trade a soul and barter breath for love they kiss the lie away and meet they swap each others love they swap each others life they swap each others play they make lies to be their meat and strang sweet bread is what they feed at their swap meet.
