pine tree hands make
ginger kisses. they are better than
the crowd of girls: nice, but all emotional.
the boys carry rocks on their heads and in their
eyes; the girl tuck the rocks into
athletic bags and into breasts. she is with the boys,
competing, the rocks split open to
Intelligence and Intellect, and good theory conversations
over coffee, and late nights, and post-colonial theory in film,
economic ruin in new age socialism, the interior flaws
of java (or was it javascript?); the labor camps in
China. what is freedom? choice.
lol lets build internment camps 4 those liberal idiots fml
read 4:35 a.m.
(She didn’t respond, she is being good). But she is still
lusting for
the intellect, the matching worldview, her religion taken
seriously and not just a sick joke for the marxists
and the intersectional queens.
im sorry im a white male theres so much ill never know
read 8: 15 a.m.
(She didn’t respond, that isn’t manhood to her).
Still. Probably best to not throw the rocks at people,
to get used to men being smarter than you.
intellect is dominance: it’s sexy
(but also im srsly irritated lol)
(not read, only she thinks that)
you want to compete but it’s their masculinity; you can’t
join the dark new throng and destroy that. pine trees
have splits in their souls
she looks into the bare branches and sees herself:
gothic, mathematical, irrational.
feminine.
the last pavilion 