unbuttoning

“Have you ever met a bashful punk?” he asks me.

I tap the skin covering his sternum with my index finger.

“Do you alternate between two complimentary psychological archetypes to reconcile them?” I ask, alluding to his question without directly answering it.

He traces the double u spelled by the curves of the underside of my breasts.

“We are all dealing with the transient eternity of the arrow of time,” he speculates.

{space only has meaning for matter}

“Let me show you that you are the congruence of the meaningfulness of the universe?” I request.

“How?”

I begin undoing his buttons.

Concretising methodology.