I got hard while walking last night. against the friction of everything. there was no one at the beach. the moon was gone. the breeze was adequate and full of teasing. the surf was provocative. lapping seductively. I was thinking about her, but as it turns out, she was fucking him. getting fucked. enjoying it. she texted me afterwards. said he initiated after the movie, before going to bed. she thought of me… though…
I like to jump from star to star during the later hours. I don’t stay too long on any particular one. escaping the pain of each violent surface. darting from here to there. unknown. unsettled. never landing on the same one twice. it’s nice to call nowhere home. feeling irrelevant. like there’s no one waiting…
lying here now, I’m as limp as dead. my spirit is crushed. my cock is careless. she has his, and that’s all that needs to be said. I have some arousing pictures of her on my phone. pixels. defleshed of life. and so, what is there to do about any of this anymore…
(spiritualityhealth.com)
No comments:
Post a Comment