O, the days of wild abandon: of vanilla cigars & gin & juice of honey dripping off your body at night and ants in the sheets come the morning light of hoisted up in the shower, twisted & sudsy sex of breaking the soap dish; not seeing through the steam of grilling summer peaches for lunch & letting them char & letting them...
<br><br><br><br><br><br><br>this re<br> this reminds of the time i spent at an Ashram. My heart wasnt't healing right when i kept tearing out the sutures. but the harmonium did soothe me some. waves of sound hitting me in the dewy morning grass amongst the praying, robed strangers ...
i like that she prioritizes monogamy over marshmallows...but perhaps only just. ...
O Ryan Gosling, you are creating unrealistic fantasies in the minds of lusty beings near and far... and now this! Goslingophila has taken hold of my white blood cells. Someone please send for help. ...
“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever, your leg my leg, your arm my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.” — Charles Bukowski ...
