Crazy Brain & Skin

It's Crazy how
my Brain can still remember her Skin
how soft it feels, like
right down to the dead dust mites
the micrometer
It's fucking crazy.

It flips through the files quicker
than anything
and brings up her name and
there it is, right in the folder.
The Soft, Crazy Skin.
It points and clicks and drags and double-clicks and maximizes.
And all this while the rest of me doesn't work
lies limp like it never did anything
or just did way too much.
Like death, maybe, but barely breathing
through congestion and a crumbling atmosphere.

It's crazy how
it just runs through those stacks like
a library long after closing.
At Midnight, even.
It runs through those stacks, racing time
playing Hide'n'Seek with Dewey Decimal.
My Brain, forever It
grabbing titles from shelves
shuffling index cards and
listening to hollering
"Olly Olly Oxen Free" and
opening little drawers and
there's her Skin.
It finds her like research.

And it's true.
It's Crazy how I reach
through sleep
and touch a shoulder - a specific shoulder
under the covers and it's warm
but not hot
and there's a coolness in one area like
it didn't get quite covered completely.
But i knead there, and massage there
and that Skin responds and the coolness fades
under my fingerprints.
And she says something, smiling.
I can hear her giggle, even with her face full of pillow.

Crazy how that tangled mess of wires
soaked in slime and spackled gray and
pinched into my skull like that.
Crazy how it got that right.
The things fired and the other things fired back
and there were maybe some lights flashing
or sparks
and then, while i snored with my right arm like a chicken wing
under my head and the rest of me wrapped like a burrito in blankets
and then there was her Skin.
And I woke up with a Hard-On.