I could rekindle faith
now that what was known
Has been been balled into

The enticement of the Elegant Demon
If it were not for Peaches, Sweet Thing
Strange Fruits and Poplar Trees

There is no courage in daring to be different
if the metaphors change while his urges remain, main and mean

troubles do not melt when the toy hardens
into the stake for the taking and breaking
loaning the moan to the soft, ripped other

for the second release of one’s own selfish lazy pleasure; it feels nice from where the taker’s standing: I could, I could I will I did

Drop her for soon the year will be over
all could be, tailored I could be, it could be
The Elegant Demon.

—animasuri’22
24 December 2022
Beijing