10/27/11 Same Place I skin-dreamed the rest of that night, bed – body at the touching of raw eyelids waking up thirsty, staggering downstairs for water water so sweet and never cold enough for my hot little mouth: no words, just moaning and spit. It wasn’t the gin that got me drunk. I forget so quickly, but you were bumping your leg against mine, “don't act so coy” turn me into shamelessness; I fucking love this game. You're touching me publicly and I'm not your leg pressing mine but I can't you grab me close to dance it's making me hot, everyone knowing we leave together. I ask where you'll take me but it's always the same place: the dark.
November 4, 2011