i am a
nick on
occam’s
razor
an imperfection
in the simplest
solution

a swollen
tastebud
dragging across
the cracked
molar of beauty

a sty on
god’s eyelid
causing her
to miss
your prayers

yet
inexplicably
or perhaps
congruently
to my natural
incongruence

i am the
tingle
growing
between your
shapely thighs

the damp
spot growing
to unfathomable
depths

i am the
flicking
tongue
teasing
your clit
squeezing
your heart
stealing
your soul

the simplest
contradiction
in a complexity
of sublime
madnesses
tearing you
apart with
every anxious
errant thought