it’s
a horrible feeling
being the needle
dulled upon
the iron of distance
the sharp point
being smashed
by unruly hands
that can’t fathom
the wear of longing
it’s
a wonderful feeling
being the needle
dulled upon
the iron of distance
the sharp point
being gently molded
by loving hands
that take the edge
off of longing
the swell of blood
as it pricks
the tip of the finger
a dot of crimson
welling
into a dome of need
it horribly wonderful
wonderfully horrific
never static in intensity
just always throbbing
like an erection
in corduroy pants
in middle school
confusing and right
in one mess of need
with no understanding
of why
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Corduroy pants? The slightly furry ones?
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Yes indeed.
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Aha we call them cords they are cool
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Not when you are ten with a boner in school. Hahahahaha
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Oh…thats a new territory all together…boys are gross! Lol
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hahahahaha
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the erection in corduroy pants in middle school… dear lord…
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sone metaphors write themselves
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I see that.
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