05 May 2015

working on working out my theories

turning plans
into possibles
into troubles
into memories.

taking in the tumble weeds.

resting my weary
weary
head on
backs and chests
hands and shoulders.

murmuring to myself
through rustled sheets, 
"you're here now.
but what else?"

and oh yea, the classics.
"he tastes like you,
only sweeter."

as I turn myself over and
scan what I can remember.

-xo
 

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