ASCENDANCY
My solitary action man fights a vertiginous tendency that makes him want more sex while in an ascending hold to reach me, correlated to my unwavering probity, determinable and anterior to whatever he says, even “You influence me to be a better fuck,” an awkwardly put self-endorsement, posed as a fallacious metaphoric sanctum, elevated, designed and flushed to no particulars, never recognizing that ascendancy implies a positioned context, a form of a cognitive disposition and not a flourishing deployed to presuppose an accordance with me; it is a loaded term, a cumbersome transposition of “influence” caught in its own vitalist vacuum.