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| cinema, bc independant media, venues, fucking free, t shirt hell, sauna, lampoon, metrotimes, message, thestranger, e cards, stranger, | But you didn't hold me, never touched me at all until long after I was calm. Still, if it hadn't been for the flashbacks, the phantom of my father, I swear even that might have been okay. Better luck next time, but then you know all what to do in detroit about the jealousy of ghosts. The first time I fucked another man after you, though, I almost fell what to do in detroit asleep in the middle. I'm getting good at it finally, what to do in detroit after almost a year. And you're in bed with your long-suffering wife (too bad sainthood's not so fun once you marry it, huh?), or maybe up already as the hour approaches four, long-since acclimated to the insomnia that's plagued you since a year before your mother's death. Are you thinking of me? My skin is so unmarred now (other than the cuts on my arms, my own doing) that you wouldn't even recognize me. |
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| Like all that pomp and circumstance of feces and cum was merely the assertion that tenderness is completely divorced from the interplay between eroticism and death. It all seemed to flow together, to be part of some divine order. Not just some lonely pratt in a jail cell trying to vent his anger and thestranger get off. So tell me the truth. Is that why you never held me afterwards? thestranger Why thestranger you'd sit and watch me try so hard not to cry I thought my chest would explode? If I looked up you'd be half-smiling, your eyes always gray after a torture scene, intent on me. I felt so naked I thought my skin had been turned inside out, that you could look up every hole and see the secret, ugly self that only my father had seen. There were times I thought I'd die, start weeping and never stop if you did not come take me in your arms, make it somehow okay that I'd let you do what you'd done, show me that you were the same person I sat up all night with talking to about books, ideas, while you sipped tea and rubbed my feet. |
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