December 2010
15 posts
“She looked as if this were her place, her moment and her world, she looked as if...”
– Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
ME: Do you sleep in the nude when I'm not there to demand it?
HIM: The answer is it depends.
ME: On?
HIM: It's like the cream in my coffee. What flavor? Depends. On? Ummm.... yes.
ME: I have a love affair with your inconsistency; it thrills and terrifies me at once.
“Hope is our most radical absurdity. Right up there with faith and love.”
– Burke Gerstenschlager
“Must time only be observed by decay? What if I wrote you a letter every day...”
I love getting ready for you.
The horrific suffering that my gender goes through, exacerbated by the city in which we live, which adds a few million tortures to the list. Pills to take and drinks to sip. Foods to eat. Motions to make. The burn of lasers, the prick of an injection. A haircut. Manicure. Pedicure. Extractions. A facial. A peel. Waxing and other depilatory procedures. A mud bath. A full-body oil emulsion. A coat...
Note #621
So here, the least intrusive form of communication (polite, yes. I’d rather save my demands for the whole of you, not simply your eyes). I miss those eyes, fluctuating blue as you look down into mine when you’re inside me. I used to avoid eye-contact. The eyes always expose more than I wished to be responsible for surrendering. But I am exposed to you. Your eyes, your lips, your...
“You are the space between intoxication and epiphany.”
– me.
I begin to write, words trickling as they do at...
Red nails on keys, the cold night slipping through the window. My nipples, hard under your shirt. Your shirt. You. In bed. You, naked in bed—do you sleep in the nude when I’m not there to demand it? Your muscles, your skin and your bones are such a glorious orchestration of man. Your body heat is violence and peace. And your voice. Your voice in my ear. I arch my back until ...
“It could have been a poem. It could have been a lie.”