Pendulum

Pit of my stomach summons me; realm of words. Possession is obsession to be me. Swinging about a clock hanging from chains; I squint. Dying rose at the end table of a broken restaurant. The ticking stops and a scared man runs. I am free; we own each other's hearts not each other's minds. I curse cockroach plague; I meet the best exterminator in town, man of the frozen hour.

"You got kidnapped too huh?"

"Yes I certainly did...."

"What kind of restaurant did they put you out?"

"I think it was supposed to be Italian...."

"Mine was supposed to be French; I stomped on the roaches with the guy's shoe that he left."

"I kicked them onto their heads."

Two faces mirror a black shop; we ponder imagery. Thus a store of exotic things; the keeper splendors his surroundings. Price tags adorn our statuettes.

"How much do you cost?"

"Three hundred and thirty-three."

"The same for me as well."

"We must come as a package."

"The going is six hundred and sixty-six."

We wear tickets; we transcend appearance.

"May I touch your abdomen?"

"If I can touch yours....."

Muscle curve, hard alignment; slithering compliments.

"You feel smaller..."

"So do you..."

"You feel taller......"

"So do you..."

Region of growth towards finalization; awkward sensitivity known as adult puberty. We lift to show; we pull down shyness.

"I recall being much harder than this..."

"It's coming off as soft flesh; there are marks to prove such."

"I am not sure if I like this."

"Me neither...."

We shrug smoking spoils from the absent genie's home; we mumble insistent gears.

"I cannot recall anything we just did prior of finding ourselves here...."

"Possibly not important...."

"I'm sure it will greet us and make itself known."