Can she put some strawberry sorbet on my love muffin?

What am I to do
with all these women/these words

these windows
and all these holes
I keep jumping through

God and the question of forever
keeps coming at me

It’s 1:54 p.m. on Sunday afternoon. I have three houseguests: one Jamaican gay boy, one bisexual, platonic, genius friend who doesn’t yet know she’s a genius and a guitarist I have never seen.