Sunday, November 16, 2003

(Because it's not my hand on his wrist, and I'm not pulling him upstairs and into the bathroom.)

I like it when she talks and she's all eloquence and the nervous feeling in your spine, and the way you're blushing.

Darling, with beautiful shoulders, talks about love and people with lips that I can't stop watching.

I'd like to talk to C so we end up with our mouths so close together.

Like the nights where I walk back to the cab station crying because it's not me kissing him, those aren't the good nights.