Witness Protection

I still miss it – I admit I wish I could recall it better: scent of sweat and summer weather, cumming twice (and once together), you saying you like my leather jacket (even if it’s plastic). I’d still swear your hips are magic – sorcery of curves and bones play symphonies of hums and moans through newly furnished family homes.

Of course, I’ve learned to never say this – at least not into the air. The only way to fall in love is to pretend you don’t care if they don’t call you when they come home, or if they don’t pick up the phone (if they ask you what you’re doing, dipshit, don’t say you’re alone!).

I was stoned or drunk or both for far too many months. My soul is light as cotton but my heart weighs sixty tons.


~ by perfectionatrix on August 14, 2011.

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