she’s not alone now, but her trembling hands still reach for her lover’s calling 

she’s not alone now, but she still yields to his bargained advantage

she’s not alone now, but her restless sleep still goes unnoticed 

she’s not alone, any longer 


from the moment my head hit the pillow, this night was destined to be filled with distraction. my weary body ached for sleep, but my mind resisted. i remembered your smile, and it invaded me, your words

invaded me,

and as the worlds of here and there swirled in blissful harmony, my consciousness became a confluence of dream and reality,

you were suddenly, actually, beside me.


brighter by the sun, and new beginnings, and possibility, and a certain


you, you make, you make me

feel, and i feel myself unravelling, revealed, bared, naked, exposed, and yet less vulnerable and afraid of 

i don’t know what (i really desire but i’m working on you)

is it the s.t.n.y. yet?

i allow my afternoon to drift away, having this tepid space to myself
for once.

times like these, rare, are seldom created from nothing, but welcomed with an openness that suggests they should be more often.

the rain, spoken of for morning, completes the condition requisite for the flooding
of your memory to my consciousness.

what the fuck are you saying?

i’m sitting alone on my sofa this afternoon, and i am thinking of you, missing
you, us, possibility, future, candid lust, volleyed desire, and same-time-next-year-worthy love

uh, hello.