november 10, 2002
my blood feels carbonated these days.
i lay awake at night and try to pacify my mind with sleep-drenched thoughts of things that have not yet happened.
your tongue inside my mouth, my lips traversing the sullen contours that detail your body. i assign you mannerisms. i plot the way you will say my name: urgent, like a moan escaping. the way your hands will make my skin plead for absolution.
and i pretend that i know you.