Untitled

Writing

I laid down and waited.

I was prepared for a night of meaningless kisses and moans, unfulfilling of the emptiness echoing around me.

I wasn’t expecting it: the taste of it. He blindsided me and I liked it.

It felt like my body was melting and the only way to keep me from becoming liquid was to never stop.

It seemed interesting, looking at the process of given pleasure that I was being provided.

I wanted to look, but when I peeked he touched profoundly, and I fell back.

I feared, but did not expect this to become something more.

Perhaps it hasn’t, but it is true… The potent of intimacy is underestimated by the hormones that blind us.

Maybe it is hollow, senseless, meaningless. Maybe what is blinding us -me- is the desire to feel.

But, how do I fight that glance?

Is it inevitable to have dreamy eyes?

Or does the soothing look holds significance in it?

I don’t know. I might not even care.

I once heard that the ignorant was the happiest man on Earth.

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