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the_subtle_pornography_of_overcast_days
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a restless bird in springtime
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these things that live in my memory, these moments.
a rainy september afternoon
a windy morning in early spring
mysterious lightning in a clear night sky
the curve of hips, the swell of breasts, the interlacing of fingers
lingering tastes of kisses
the pleasure of scooting closer together under a heavy blanket while a gray sky twists and swirls its way into a pale silver glow
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060329
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ever dumbening
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in_a_grey_light (and/or listenings (the third (but unlabeled) listen)).
i hear ya brother bird; we're rapidly gunning for the wettest march in history around here. it hasn't brought me the associated nookie you speak of, but there are still two days left. we can hope, can't we?
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old grendel he lives in a cave
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birthday weekend was good, connected with a a few people from the old crime spree days (though not the one i would have most preferred)
since i conceded the point and quit my pursuit of that one lady that spent a long time leading me on and fucking only my mind, my dry-spells have never been longer than about six weeks at a stretch
and now, as before, with my distinct lack of looks, it never ceases to amaze me that i get any at all
but they are with me as i am with them not so much looking for "Right" as for "right now" (though they have almost all been fairly uniformly ridiculously way-the-hell-outta-my-league Hot, which REALLY REALLY makes me wonder if maybe i really am the devil)
sure, it all runs contrary to my more romantic leanings over the last few years, but hey - look where all of that got me.
watakushi wa hentai desu yo
damn skippy
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