Even though you outwit me, I’m not going back to you. Even though the purity of your love is affirmed by the unanimous quiver of every feather in the celestial host, I am not going back to the axe of your love, O triumphant husbandman and lasso of the gateless horses, I am not going back to you even though I squirm in your arms and surrender to your will the total essence of my dusty shell here in this captured sweat-hall, I am never coming back, I swear by the rent curtains of my virginity and the blood thick silence between the bridgeless worlds, that I will lie to you forever, and I will be never again the cup of your need.
