"You made a lot of enemies tonight" [more on that later]
My palm pilot's got amnesia. I'd been using it as an annex to my human memory; who knows, but those lost little scribblings could have given issue to the only thing that matters, the perfect conjunction of words, the holy light in the skull. So here I am mourning a handful of aborted electrons. Cut away and glass-backed, a window set into skin. "It's a turn on," she laughs, and it does feel obscene to watch the sinuous meat of those muscles flutter with breath. To trace a yellow cord of fat; an architecture of veins.
All I do anymore is want.
My palm pilot's got amnesia. I'd been using it as an annex to my human memory; who knows, but those lost little scribblings could have given issue to the only thing that matters, the perfect conjunction of words, the holy light in the skull. So here I am mourning a handful of aborted electrons. Cut away and glass-backed, a window set into skin. "It's a turn on," she laughs, and it does feel obscene to watch the sinuous meat of those muscles flutter with breath. To trace a yellow cord of fat; an architecture of veins.
All I do anymore is want.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
derceto:
it was nice meeting you the other night even though i wasn't actually that social considering how trashed i was 
derceto:
and yeah, i almost forgot.... welcome to SGNJ 
