Body Trap

I stretch 

to feel my physicality.  

In reality,

I should just feel up a strangers leg.

I beg for a flood,

in what's become a semi-virginal wasteland.

Cactus pants and a bedtime twitch.

I wish

to transcend this body

leave my consuming cyclical shell.

Leave its maintenance to someone else.

The conflict plays out behind my jaws,

grind-bone-grind.   

In the night time

I find only disquieting answers.

In the daytime

I quell the questions with cancer.