my fingers
from walking
they all knuckled up
like a ballet foot
all taped up
worn into function
yellow
zombie yellow pus
and weeping into silk
wet, all fucking
balled up
clotted up
take a look
my forehead?
that's you.
visiting hours are
on
i've got my legs
crossed in the waiting room
read shouts & murmurs
thinkin a you
“Scott?”
my cock does a skip.
images of
you
fucking, smirking
