I like the idea that there is a midnight somewhere that you are not a part of,
that hair falls out and regrows
so there will be parts of me that you have never known and I like
the idea of lines of coke,
of your body wrapped around me,
your hands on my throat
on the floor of a party somewhere west of here where the wind is colder.
I like the idea of growing older,
and the cracked grins, and the taste of gin and your
lips are like a space god missed.
And you are godless, and I am limp.
And I like the idea of us, of giving into lust, or of growing
up. I guess you’ll never know me
I like the thought that things keep going
even when I am in bed, breathing softly under the weight of my own head
and you are in a field somewhere west of here
coloring your hair. And I like the idea that there is somewhere
you have never existed. That there are people who don’t know you,
who can’t miss you,
who can meet people with your name and feel unchanged
by the experience. I wish my bed was big enough for the two of us
but I like the idea of a space all my own. And I don’t like being alone
but it is getting easier.
When you kiss her, I hope you don’t think of me.
I like the idea of you feeling a little less empty.
If something is destined for you, never in a million years will it be for somebody else.
Happy Holidays to all my Flickr friends… may they be merry and joyful! (by ..Ania.)
how stupid of me; to think I was the only flower in your garden.
Girls do not dress for boys. They dress for themselves, and of course, for each other. If girls dressed for boys they’d just walk around naked all the time.