mardi, novembre 8

four days

and counting. no phone calls from here nor there. is this ok? absolutely and absolutely (not). there is no winner and no loser - this is not a game - but don't let it make you angry or they win they win (this is one of your little riddles, isn't it. you are trying to teach me something again).

(a crime of passion. a cardiac arrest. i hope a little rest comes to you. cause you shine a light)

i can't remember the last time we fucked. you are already slipping away from me - slipping into my history now that you've relinquished your grasp on my now. that's a lie - now that i think about it i can remember rolling over, still mostly asleep, finding your hard cock with my hand. run my fingertips over your your balls, feel you tremor. 'baby, get on your knees'. i comply, feel you climb up behind me, run your tongue over me to get me wet, slide inside. the mornings are my favourite time the half asleep fucking not sure where i end and you begin.

is this truth? or am i imagining it all? is it a memory or a dream?