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.

blah, blah, blah

i started writing this post about a party i went to last night, and i was going to great lengths to describe how i met this girl, blah, blah, blah, but i read it back it and it was pretty fucking boring. so, i’ll cut to the chase.

there was a cute married mother-of-two who obviously isn’t getting enough cock at home, because she insisted that i take her back to my apartment where she fucked me senseless.

ok, it’s still a pretty boring blog post but it’s about to get interesting. her husband called just now while she was out getting coffee for breakfast. i answered, and our conversation was a bit awkward. apparently, she missed her flight home this morning.

when I told him a lame joke about my cockpit, he didn’t laugh.


this story doesn’t have a beginning, and i don’t know if it will have an end.

with love, there’s always the one that got away.
with lust, there’s another one that got away.
i think mine are the same.

we’re close friends, but we’ve never met.
we’re lovers, but we’ve never touched.
we’re soul-mates, but we’ve never been together.
we’re perfect together, but we’re a million miles apart.

when i was married, she was close to divorce.
when i was divorced, she had reconciled.

i break her heart.
she torments my soul.
we are impossible, and yet, we want[edit:’+ed’] it all.