Should I Masturbate or Take a Nap
The afternoon has lost its spine.Light lies exhausted on the floor.My body submits two modest prayers:a little deathor sleep, its quieter twin. Desire knocks without conviction,wearing boredom’s attire.The bed, meanwhile, opens like a gravewith freshly laundered sheets. Should I manufacture lightning,briefly become both god and weather,then stare into the conquered ceiling,or vanish, blameless,…












