have you any idea?

This is the fluid mosaic model of the inner ear canal filled with the leaden heavy breathing of a familiar musculature. Watch the tiny bones within me quiver under your voice, watch them waver and final break, like a bough in a hurricane, leaving me deaf and dumb. And when you finally reach your loudest, I will revel in the following silence and the fact that soon your heft will be lifted from me and I will once again breathe for myself.

You are not allowed to touch me like that, with your hairy appendages brushing away my self security. You are not allowed to let me touch you, because we do not fit together, and as soon as you are on top of me I will want you off, and not only off, but as far away as possible. As soon as you are off me, I will run for my life into the shower to soak away, and dissolve like soap in the hot, sterile, tiled, solitary flow. I will run down the drains, staining the sewer with my shame at letting myself be touched by cave men from all ages.

My throat aches from the heat of your thoughtless spewing. No matter how much boiling water I pour down my gullet, those proteins will not denature, and I am left with the growing, squirming sensation of being your verb- an unwilling participant in the heat of alcoholic nights. I see the way you look at me in the dark, and I know that because I am talking to you this way, because I am putting my hand on your there, you are thinking that I agree with this and with you. Have you been so blinded by the preceding months? Have you really been able to convince yourself that this is possible? That it is possible for me to actually want your skin against mine? You are kidding yourself, you lunk. You ape.