what happens? when things change, people change, you change, what happens - change - that happens, to rehappen and you know..you know of things, that will happen, might happen - you, still here.
what happens? what do you do - when you know, that then - things will change, people will change, you will change - and everything that looked like glitterpuffs will smell like sickle ends of worlds, swamp-vapor clouds and apologies to RSVPs
then - it comes to this smile, when you look at things, people - things, and - you know, with this smile - yours, that they have reached a fall, your fall - or theirs, that they just fell, or will fall - off you - what happens then -
in your building blocks, they are. they exist, they have been - but in your head, your past declines to molten ice, subtle creams of luck once licked - in your head, they were, in your cock - they might have resided - inside you, reserved - places
but things change, and you know -
and for the sake of mating your surface with another's - for the sake of friction, of loss of energy - as heat, for the sake of loops, circles and intersections of lines - you break mirrors, and build others, and fetch more temporary you's in others, for you to fuck - in poly interim-stands, that might or might not involve technical romance