you're fucking sexy. i hope you know this as i walk behind you to class. i am undressing you slowly but completely with my eyes. i am not concentrating on the people pushing past me or the smoke that's burning my eyes. i can't take them off you. the confidence that floats off your back leaves a hazy trail that i greedily follow. i think about the way that your skin would feel, just skin on skin...your legs tangled with mine and my face in your neck, under your hair. the nice thing about you. the fantastic thing about you is that i don't need alcohol or any kind of fake high when i think about you or talk to you, i get it naturally.
you get me, naturally.
vulnerability used to come easily. i used to wear it all out. yee haw. gung ho. now i dole it out in small portions. the rations are bare. just like oregon trail. i liked to make my oregon men and women suffer. i would ration them and see their need and desperation but i controlled the game. when it's in my hands i turn the chaos button to max. that's what makes it exciting. desperate anxious excited ready. i need to feel these extremes.
it's the same in sex. i need the extremes, nothing mediocre, or it's not worth the effort. we have to push past that finish line and keep going. raise the bar. i need to feel in all levels on the chart. all over the map. make me speak in tongues. god, i'd love to.
you make me speak in illegible, incoherent phrases, pieced together in a madman sort of way.
"you say catastrophe, i say fuck yes"
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1 comment:
I miss your words
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