My world would be a world of foolish panties. Foolish cute socks &
panties on the bunny beaches of the perfect Panorama. Pantheism on a
Pangaea panorama. Where all the continents are in funny places. Reclining
on a panthalassan bath mat. Grinning, pliant, giggle-girls around me.
     Nah. Girl X. Or GIRL III. Leaning her chin on her knees. The slop of
the surf, the white noise of the palm fronds, the soft perfumed wind. The
air softeners have been at work. This perfumed air has been strained
through the fine mesh of many golden sunsets. This air has permutated
into the Wind of Heaven.
     Perfect understanding and perfect love in the eyes of Girl X. In the
violet sunset-pink eyes of girl x. To see her better I scrub and scrub
with girlex, until I've scrubbed off all my teenage sex prowess. I'm
virgin white again, ready to be corrupted. A page to be penned! C'mon,
you chickenshits! C'mon, you chickenskirts!