She comes as a shot glass — He comes as a wine cork — She is collected, she is shallow—she is a calmer of sorrows — He is conservative, and he stubborn—he is the antithesis of flow.

She slams herself right next to him — He’ll let her splash him if she wants to—makes her insides quiver just to know that — He reaches inside her — She stains him—she browns him with small splotches — He reacts in angst—he pops her face—she wobbles, she falls, she hits the ground.

He bounces, downward, toward her side — She is in shards — She pours herself inside her, that spills herself back out at him — He jumps inside her, he wants to stop her — She spills again despite him.

She becomes a quarter — He becomes a rubber band — She is decent, she is passable—she is the best in her class — He is useful, he is dirty—he is used, repeatedly—over and over and over.

She strums herself inside his ridges — He’ll let her break him, if she wants to—how he wishes that she knew that — She rips a tear, he gasps relief—she throws herself outside of him — She gives him her tail, she’s looked away — He envelops her with his rubbers, he stretches himself beyond his bounds.

He rips, he explodes—he bangs into a confetti, he falls to the ground, he lands all over her — She spins on her ridges, she leaves her reaction to fate—she twists on his pieces, she falls on her face.

She becomes a sword pick — He becomes a China marker — She is fetching, she is toyful—she pleases the eyes and basic thoughts — He’s traditional, yet he is hybrid—he is common but not well-known.

She stabs into his wrapper — He’ll let her sharpen him if she wants to—makes her anxious just to know that — She unwraps him, in sharp, quick tugs — His red bleeds grander, with each rotation — He then stops her, he has tangled — She stabs into its gap—she wants badly to unwrap more of him.

She is stuck inside his tangles—she pulls herself free, she breaks her own tip — He writes himself away—away to that that’s nothing — He is an exoskeleton — She is his embalmer.