Penultimate Nonsense

The fundamentalist grip upon ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘black’ and ‘white’, ‘grey’ and ‘medication’ slips away when stirred with synergies of a nature that makes the practical functionality of a subtle hip gyration paramount to the infused sexual confusion overwhelming my ability to think with the clarity required to know what I’m even talking about.  I look towards you, stirring in my dreams, bookkeeping my books with a prudence and cool discipline reserved for naughty secretaries, and that time I spilled my coffee on the coffee shop floor looking down your shirt.  I therefore challenge you to a duality upon a plane or a train or a trip through a far away place, far away from this reality, and these obligations, and that particular problem over there.  One final penultimate trip with my finger tip and the skin rounding your hip, meeting in a place that makes the fundamentalist grip upon right and wrong, black and white, grey and the means by which we live.

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