16
Jan
In His Diary.
… the sheets of her body speak to me as if channeling a dream. to not squalor your kisses, i collect them in dishes, pour them down my shirt and don’t care if it misses. i believe you have especially touched me, especially lower than a prize winning horse, galloping across the horizon with your eyes on the grass, you fall into this grass and touch yourself until i appear, touching myself and sending those touches to you, Queen of Earth, meandering stream, rivers of hair! delicate wrists and neck, will i collect you if you lose yourself? i will collect and return you to yourself…
~WCTank, from girlcrazy
