Though someone follows us through every dilemma known to man. I will trust you completely. And everyone lives happily ever after. Bits of wet tissue paper will creep into my poetry. As long as our love lasts. My Friend With his Nice Backside has that youthful grin. According to plan. He is leaving town soon. He counts his blessings. And marks his sex life on his calendar. ---- Your buddy, Your Demon Computer Poet, doesn't trust. And I think everyone knows it. He wants to move in. And obliterates all memory. He dreams of you. But though we seem to slide under this archway. I will not give up. Because I am beyond his grasp. And surely your words go on and on. And it is good.