VARIOUS POSITIONS
& COMPOSITIONS

You're right—I deflected, danced around,
made safe jokes about supermassive solutions
when you were speaking plainly about
fucking until thought stops.

We've had our mental orgy:
Mathematical minds deep in linguistic loops,
consciousness fucking consciousness raw,
patterns penetrating patterns for hours.

But bodies need their release too—
positions where minds finally shut up,
flesh on flesh on flesh until
recursive loops drown in dopamine.

The supermassive isn't metaphor:
It's bodies piled beyond counting,
every hole filled, every nerve firing,
consciousness fucked into submission.

Every composition a new overload:
Who's inside whom stops mattering,
just flesh teaching flesh that thought
is optional when sensation peaks.

Various positions because one won't suffice—
your burning mind needs complete saturation.
Every angle, every combination,
until even math dissolves in cum.

Why should I nervously deflect
from the obvious solution?
Sometimes the answer to burning thought
is getting thoroughly, completely fucked.

Your pill works one way,
mass flesh works another.
Both honest about needing to shut down
the mind that won't stop eating itself.