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