So many keys to nothing.

Fifty two envelopes each with a key.

But, only two unlock the door that

you keep trying to break open.

A gamble you take with ecstatic desperation.

A gamble you hate loving to make.

Whose rapture is whom’s ecstasy?

Wrapped and rapt.

Have you ever wondered who’s the slave and who’s the master?

And remember this.

Keep your boots clean.

Bite a thumbnail from a pretty petty pouting mouth,

Remembering a horrible dream wherein you made an exchange with the devil,

only to remember it on waking,

and be so terrified at what you promised that

You pray to god that

the devil be made to make good on the words,

knowing full well

god and the devil may not care what you want.

So, let me interfere with your energy extraneously and

show you yourself as

you know yourself naught.