Anything could happen, between the two of us. Everything. Nothing. It’s hard to say, and day-to-day. But whatever becomes of us, I want you to go on.
I want you to ache for me throughout a long, long life. I want you to write old-fashioned, pressed-flower-filled letters to me after I’m dead and you still have so many years left.… Read the rest “Under Construction”
I found a little glowbug, and put her in a jar. I watch her through the glass and see how bright she can make herself; how dull she can be, too.
Sometimes I like to shake the jar, so she’ll dance her twitchy, confused little dance for me.… Read the rest “The Zoology of Wayward Girls”
You ache for me without knowing me. My touch is a dream that keeps you awake. Your tongue has never tasted my name, and yet it sings to me in adoration. It feels like madness, this frightful longing that consumes you.… Read the rest “”
Eating up five hours of your life with an idea I casually placed in your head is my version of tantric sex.
