he said i was heady. and i took that as an insult. but he traced my wrist with his fingertips. kissed me. and held me. all night. so maybe he meant intoxicating. instead of overwhelming and reckless.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
and every summer is a hot token to the cold, cold take of lust. and every autumn singes with the business of sadness.
::this is what today sounds like::
he said i was heady. and i took that as an insult. but he traced my wrist with his fingertips. kissed me. and held me. all night. so maybe he meant intoxicating. instead of overwhelming and reckless.
he said i was heady. and i took that as an insult. but he traced my wrist with his fingertips. kissed me. and held me. all night. so maybe he meant intoxicating. instead of overwhelming and reckless.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment