biosynthesis scene.

I used to put on a happy face. But of course, there’s this weird load you have. A pint a day keeps the demon at bay, and keeps my insanity in its cage. And yes, I strutted myself into this bar. Masturbating alligators turned their heads to me. Yet, I chose the chair far left, to avoid their nymph looks. Dubious facts made their way inside my head. Penetrating badly, it caused headache and made me blink a few times to snub it. My consciousness is evolving. And no, dear, you’re not there, yet. And that’s why I raised my hand and asked the bunny for another glass. Someone came. The alligator’s approaching. I can smell his filthy shirt with my brain, dipped in germs and wombats from nine to five. I thwarted the sickness within my stomach, and forced another glass of beer into my mouth, gladly. I overheard another alligator talking with the bunny waitress. He cast a spell on her with his sagacious words, And there she stands still, looking gullible than ever. Oh, you arrived already. Sitting right next to me with that exhausted expression, You never realized that you just vanquished my boredom. “You look disgruntled,” I said. “These meetings been wearing me off,” you replied. So I rubbed the back of your neck, And you finished your first glass. “I’m going to the ladies room. I’ll be waiting for you. One minute,” I said. You nodded. Less than one minute later, you entered the set. I kissed you. You kissed me. I closed my eyes and I see images, appeared in my head like a slide from an over head projector. Tongues. Hands. Breath. Nails. Estrogens. Testosterones. We’re making a biosynthesis scene, aren’t we? And I throw my happy mask away. I don’t need it no more.