The sweet porno in the glare. Both my eyes as well as hers are filled. she is on screen, like a whore in front of us, alive, breathing. Deeply dead spores of human exposure sink and drip off her skin and drown in a pool ready to be flushed away. Her mind is not deaf. She is blind. The lost innocence she danced away is matched by a tear falling from the heart of an important stranger. No curve, I imagine, is as harmful as that the one the world makes. Outside in the sun to see the sides meet no longer appeals to worked eyes. Quiet, unlike me, a different tune dragged onto the holiday of my addiction to unattatched romance. The raw taste of desire pushes all the blood afflicted aside in a storm of heat..