A Marxist in Love
Nothing Breaks Me Like a Marxist in Love
Published in
1 min readDec 21, 2020
Nothing breaks me more than a Marxist in love or out of love, which is usually the case. Those bastards who see any eye of affection as a blind one. Those up-all nighter’s who fear any form of want. Maybe it’s not fear but some other insidious emotion that makes them withdraw with horror.
You, fine young cannibals, make me want nothing more but to fix the things that keep you from me, but I ain’t no Superman, handyman, clean up your mess man, I’m just a queer soul looking.
I don’t want to mess with that casual effort of hiding how close I want you. I need to be able to say it without fear, and you can’t give me that, I know, but I want it anyway, so maybe that’s why you give me nothing.
Aigner Loren Wilson 2020
