I spew all these words at you, releasing them from bonking around up in my noggin causing a ruckus.
The peeping tom has taken up running or biking whatever it is that requires two-piece spandex body suits and frequenting my coffee shop since I moved. — when I feel his eyes on me staring as I sit at my table, or staring as I enter from a walk; I would rather take an orangepeeler…
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Je veux envelopper mes bras autour de vous, mais vous ne me le permettez pas. Quel monde quel monde quel monde Me fondre.
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I met this Lesbian couple at sex trivia. they got fat, happy, and a year married both changing their last name to Violet; pledging to be different together.
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This is one of those nights it should be legal to take off all your clothes and walk around a town. — i want to feel the breeze on all my surface as I walk past sun-downed reflections on shop window. — do not make small talk with just anyone on the sidewalk because they…
Read MoreOn this bar deck in my downtown, a heated lamp basking against the back of my neck feels like the kisses i need right now. — the street-crossed business lights bring me the answers I need, and this bottle mutes all before them.
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Referees of this Griffith night Air have made their final call of the game. we are all fifth place. the crowd with their pairs of tired, working, drinks in hands just–“fine” with the results.
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When on a walk Without glasses you get a glimpse of a tall shrub but, blurry eyes see instead, a predator. — parasympathetic nervous system ally frost mage casts flash freeze on your heart for protection. it doesn’t feel bad? exactly. you know the feeling, Breezy night hands hugged lovingly around the organ responsible for running…
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I was taught love was the wrong details of an oil painting. the image: a blanket wrapped around a stranger in a desert night, desperately trying to keep warm by a fire. I was taught the only way for anyone to love me was for them to light me ablaze stack of kindling…
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