summer09

“summer09”, who would’ve thought that you’d be the one? And a heroin addict at that. 27.27.27. “Well, look at you.” I know. I can’t wait to taste the ash in your mouth again. To hear that laugh of yours that co-exists behind the smile of my favorite mouth. You always taste good. You always smell like memories. “It was nice.” You bite into my neck unexpectedly, aggressively, almost playful. It was, maybe. While he wasn’t looking. But you know I don’t care. Well, maybe I do, but that’s from my own circumstances. ”Oh, but I do, dear.” I tell you how hard it is, you agree. I’m glad you concur. I’m glad that we occur. And the answer is, “Yes.” Of course…you know I can’t get enough of you, can’t resist you, what you do to me. You inspire me. You make me re-live desire. The want is almost painful. I like the physical pain, at least, when it comes from your fingertips, or your teeth. Or your perfect circumference. “I mean, how could I not? You’re just so damn cute.” Mmm…”Rigs + 88”. It never gets old, does it? It always happens, and happens again. Almost unexpectedly, at random. But we planned this time, unexpectedly. “So you’re saying that it isn’t that much better. Everything about us is wrong.” Yes, but right. Too right to ignore, to put away in a folder of the past. You are part of my past, you are. You always will be. I’ll always think of you, somehow. Those sunglasses, that smirk, that emaciated body. The hips that I let open. The stomach of a man. The fingertips of a girl.

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  • 27
  • Rigs
  • 88

• June 20, 2009, 10:15pm

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