GalaxiesI can't help but to imagine the astronomy of him.More Like This
If he's hurt, would the universe pour itself from him?
And if he sang, would constellations dance to please him?
A man of his inner-beauty: was he born of a gaseous flame?
There is a galaxy between his ribs that I have yet to discover.
He is a mystery, as a star has yet to be mine.
Paint me a PalacePaint me a palace where our frenzied chanting of each others names will echo for eons in the high sweeping ceilings.More Like This
Sketch me a cottage only big enough for you and I, with a tiny herb garden and a slate roof and ivy-festooned walls.
Sculpt me a bungalow by the sea where I will write seductive syntax and you will bare your soul in pencil marks on paper as delicate as a butterfly's wing.
Craft me somewhere I can dream and play me the songs that remind me it is our home.
Sex is not a goddamn performance.Sex should feel as natural as drinking water.More Like This
It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe.
Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh.
It's not about being "good in bed."
It's about being happy.
One should never worry if they're doing it "correctly." Sex is not factual. I don't want your cookie-cutter sex, I don't want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don't want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It's enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there's only one. Hello, here's me. Here's you.
Don't worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can d