dictate that what you can’t give i should get from someone else but i must admit you have somewhat of a monopoly on me

i must say, it gives me immense satisfaction, the way you can’t seem to stop kissing me whenever you leave.

the more i need, the more i give.

i wonder sometimes if these phantom rushes of blood i feel in your absence are the grown-up equivalent of a child belatedly discovering a...

sooner or later, the tea dust will settle and all will be clear.

i taste like the ocean, all sweeping tide and limestone.

enough with this constant wavering - i want to go forth if not in a straight line at least in a web slowly expanding

i think, perhaps you are a lesson in the art of giving and receiving

allow me to disarticulate you.

how about you stop chasing things and allow them to land instead softly at your feet?