SELF-KNOWLEDGE

Look at her.

So beautiful

so blindeyed oblivious.

She doesn't know.

She can't imagine

the time I have spent

masturbating over her.

She could not calculate

the hours I have spent

with her

without her consent

or knowledge.

Her image alone is what has gotten me through

many a lonely bout

with myself

my hands

and my extremities.

She has been my means of satisfaction

and this conversation

will likely fuel fifty more

fiery fixations

of self-immolation

enjoying myself

through her.

And she doesn't even know

she simply could not

imagine my perfidy

in this mater.

Or maybe she does.

Whatever.

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