26.Apr.2002`

i want sex.

--

your favorite game

Occupied thoughts of liquid and my cerebral losses. Exhausted but of my own accord. The clouds are heavy, the air is thick, I run my fingernails down my bare arms, adorned lovingly in the Rose Oil, I trace my insecurities from jaw-line to cheekbone, my eyes blear with somnolence, "In Your Room" musically destroys my loins, only to re-mend.

And I wish you were here.

It would shock the hell out of you to know that.

--

time & machine