I thought I'd start my first post with a poem. Hope you like it.
Screwed beforehand, screwed thereafter,
Screwed in many different towns.
And in houses; on beds, on tables,
Across the sofas, across the land.
Nothing sacred said with laughter,
Nothing only I could stand.
Promises made in different mindsets,
In nighttime caf's and gloried grands.
I am lost now, watching faces,
From the windows, washed with sand.
Dainty plates, and dainty pleasures,
Dealt out by washed, still dirty hands.
Breaking contradictions in his mind was, to him, like walking through a winter forest snapping twigs underfoot.