Point blank You are nobody's boyfriend Just a series of anatomy lessons Under your specific skin Treating your cells like a stamp collection Framing your (stick of?) dick Behind monitor glass Unholy and wholly unsettled Like unearthed indian bones With fleabitten ankles And itchy blanket beds Impressed from a wet pocket In a packed flat desert Even place calls With the numbers on men's room walls You are nobody's boyfriend Just a series of anatomy lessons Under your specific skin