I get the feeling that biological longings
For someone to touch the end
That ejaculates meaning
Is underneath protective casing
Acting on the impulses of culture
Expecting to fall into nurture
But I don’t want to wake up
With a sense of dread
That one day, I’ll be shaking a cold corpse
Or causing someone else that trauma
I can’t even stick it in
For the advancement of the species
Without a little existential pocket settling
Softening the gland with its jibes of meaning
Fracturing a first or second date
When I can’t begin to explain
Why I want you to take your clothes off
If all I feel is futile in response
An outer body experience, watching
Like a perverted puppeteer
Controlling the moves with my fingers
Alone, to spite or despite my biology


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