She is not what I would have wanted to choose for myself (note: this is not to say she is not what I want. she is.) Advertisements
Have you ever encountered a thing so precious that if you could not possess it, sheer madness required that you forced it to perish from this very existence?
I logon, late, so late, the only light in my room is electric and blue, casting alien shadows over the planes of my face. I am searching.
I would eat this world, this life, this universe whole — would swallow it down, choke on it, spittle flying and saliva leaking out the corners of my mouth, lips distended, cheeks bulging; all of it, every last scrap and bit and piece, no crumb left behind… (A pornography of of existential consumption)
Over my own two feet. No, not really (read: yes, really) because she is right up my “power alley” as one friend would say, ready for a “conversion special” as another would add to that.
I want her.
“So, why aren’t you dating someone? Why haven’t you met someone yet?” I hate that question. It comes to me, often, from well-meaning friends, absentminded yet caring coworkers, anxious parents and gentle doyennes. I get it in supermarkets, in gyms, at the park, while pumping gas, via text message, e-mail, and carrier pigeon– Why. Why … Continue reading
I love men’s bodies.
I am her forbidden thrill.