Square Roots

If you love me. If you ever did. I can't imagine how. Thin sticks beat the ground. The frivilous music of dead men. Their heads bigger than their hearts. Their time machines stuck on what if.

Grandma comes apart. In thin threads. Of lessons not learnned. Witches only half in the oven. This skin teeming with lessons I may never learn. Because the touch is too easy. Too seldom. Penises like darts. Aim for something too far away. From these shakey hands.

Her thighs were all subtraction. Her tits were merely remainders in the process. There was time she thought to travel both the future and the past. If she could only divide that much. Bite down on those atoms one by one. Like broken fingernails. Find the fractions.

Teach them the math of lonely men.