intimate blanks,
ink spills.

intimate ocean,
oil spills.

What does a boy do in a space?
Shall I propose an intimate rave about your heels?

You refuse.
Out right.

Harder?
No.

Better?
Not really.

Well?
Well, well.

A round mirror strapped on the knee.
Little monkey me hops around reflecting inwards and outwards.

White monkey,
Black monkey?

No significance.

Swing your arms till the mirror breaks.
Stomp your feet until the mirror shatters.

Sweet song of the intimate crackle and pop.

Sweet song of a monkey's cry of clarity.