two-two was too satisfying. too late, it
was, & two-two too chilling at two past
two in the morning. too much wetness,
& hotness: a transgression too far gone
(twice) & a pulsing also doubly-done.
a little longer & it would’ve been two-three,
or three-two, or three-three at three &
who knows after that. i’d reached two
first, too hazy & plunging to hold back,
& hers came quickly after, too blasphemous
to handle. how to continue ? how to get
accustomed to the two-two parallel
that split me so prismatically ? i’m too
worried for my numbers, too pampered
to see a single digit ever again !