I still love you. Or what my be construed as love - was it? nevermind that love business.
I still desire you. To take you to ground - to lift your body again past pleasure and reason to a pain just so sweet - it blanks your mind and clips your spinal cord.
I want to fuck you numb. with a jackhammer and a few well placed bites.
I see you when i want - my specter - my haunting and yet your flesh is warm, your eyes, though terrible, are still wet - you breath drawn mechanically as intended by the base of your skull - you are alive out there.
There
that place - our living world.
Yet - you only exist between my ears - the signal station - the den of a jester out to mess with this boy tonight.
my apparition, I know not the past four years of your life. I carry YOU. Like a cheap photograph across frontlines. Like a letter on a prison wall prefume stench ever so slight as it fades from my nostrils. YOU are NOT real. you evaporate into my mind.
but I can still touch your skin, I can still taste your heat, I can feel your grip as your steady your palms on the wall.
I feel you, babe. better than numbness, i say.
We had that final fuck.
but never the kiss goodbye.
And my soul has lurked the riverbank ever since.
Seeing an old flame is a complicated experience. Mine lives across town - though i've never "bumped" into her on the subway or street. there is a force keeping us apart. And though I'll admit I'm comfortable with never being near her again - I can only wonder why are we so magnetically repellent when living in the land of ironic encounters and "small worlds"
I'm sure there is a reason out there.
but this is my own.
We can't be together again.
because we'd fuck so hard we'd destroy the planet.
I still desire you. To take you to ground - to lift your body again past pleasure and reason to a pain just so sweet - it blanks your mind and clips your spinal cord.
I want to fuck you numb. with a jackhammer and a few well placed bites.
I see you when i want - my specter - my haunting and yet your flesh is warm, your eyes, though terrible, are still wet - you breath drawn mechanically as intended by the base of your skull - you are alive out there.
There
that place - our living world.
Yet - you only exist between my ears - the signal station - the den of a jester out to mess with this boy tonight.
my apparition, I know not the past four years of your life. I carry YOU. Like a cheap photograph across frontlines. Like a letter on a prison wall prefume stench ever so slight as it fades from my nostrils. YOU are NOT real. you evaporate into my mind.
but I can still touch your skin, I can still taste your heat, I can feel your grip as your steady your palms on the wall.
I feel you, babe. better than numbness, i say.
We had that final fuck.
but never the kiss goodbye.
And my soul has lurked the riverbank ever since.
Seeing an old flame is a complicated experience. Mine lives across town - though i've never "bumped" into her on the subway or street. there is a force keeping us apart. And though I'll admit I'm comfortable with never being near her again - I can only wonder why are we so magnetically repellent when living in the land of ironic encounters and "small worlds"
I'm sure there is a reason out there.
but this is my own.
We can't be together again.
because we'd fuck so hard we'd destroy the planet.
and it STILL won't get out of my dreams.