there are things that i want to tell you like how i love the way you callously stare into the reflectious glass or window pane. it makes me tear up with joy to see a young man so quick to look twice. i can't count the times you have been printed in my memory because of the nonchelant tease of your hair or the skin showing where you might not know. [butyouknow]. when it's your voice on the line, i am smitten and dead- with the others, it's trite. i'm making up plans to seduce you, my dear, when it seems you have stopped this mind-reading. when it seems you have begun to follow another's lead. when it seems i am no longer interesting/ed... i am going for you. you won't see my threads of caution or my diseased phobia of panic. just wait, darling. hold on to my feet and let me do the running.

if i am writing this to you and you are reading these words and you can speak my tounge and i'm not a coward, then why don't you take me in and show me around and i will lay in your bed and i will marry your lifestyle and we will ajoin and there came the fall and we picked up the pieces and why can't you cum? i want to make you cum. why can't i stop? i never wanted you to stop. i want this to end so that we can pretend it never happened and when will you grow old so i can tell you i am ashamed? i want to tease those trickster lips into chaos with my flesh and when you can't take it anymore, i will bite that shirt right off of your back and rip those shreds you call jeans so that i can get to what you call your tool and i can find a hole that might need digging. all you. all me. all al llalalallalll us. all us. all us. all us. crimson and clover. your record player. skipping and skipping and there is us in the mirror and it looks as if we aren't caring, but the secrets in our eyes relate to one another that that is all there is in this world is caring and when it is over, well- we don't think about when it is over because we only have time to tend to our itch. we can only lick and bite and word in the ear of the other. let me know how i am doing. oh you are doing fine and me? oh yes. that is wonderful. i want to say your name and i am scared because it will sound so surreal, so i hold it in and you realize what is tripping through my mind and you scream your name real loud because i can't and then me... LAURRRRRIE!! ohhhh! and we are rolling in your sheets. you haven't washed for days. good thing this is happening, because we were about to spew this load all over the scene. we couldn't take it anymore. smoke a cigarette. we both agree that smoking is the best part to sex. we think it is good that we waited. silence. stirring? maybe. a phone call. some sunlight. chest hair. i put on a dress and think of how pretty you are and i am jealous and we are back to normal again, and oh! there are our friends. hello...