Magdalena O!

This is the long tunnel of wanting you.
Its walls are lined with remembered kisses
wet & red as the inside of your mouth,
full & juicy as your probing tongue,
warm as your belly against mine,
deep as your navel leading home,
soft as your sleeping cock beginning to stir,
tight as your legs wrapped around mine,
straight as your toes pointing toward the bed
as you roll over & thrust your hardness
into the long tunnel of my wanting,
seeding it with dreams & unbearable hope,
making memories of the future,
straightening out my crooked past,
teaching me to live in the present present tense
with the past perfect and the uncertain future
suddenly certain for certain
in the long tunnel of my old wanting
which before always had an ending
but now begins & begins again
with you, with you, with you.

-Erica Jong

My olive branch is starting to dry out and I want it to grow so badly so I keep over-extending it.

I can’t seem to access the water anymore.

If I’m coming then I’m already there. But with someone else moving me, the turbulence is always greater. Alone, my face creates angles and uneven box outlines while I’m there. That may be the only benefit.It’s all up to me. Sometimes I don’t want the responsibility.

Turn to the side. Which side? Are you already there? or are you going to come, still? Go.

How do I repossess the moments of my life to rewrite them into fiction? And why does my fucking keyboard keep switching to Canadian French-CSA keyboard palette turning all my punctuation into accented letters?!

And how does Miranda July do it? Probably because she just does, she does it, instead of just zealously thinking about it.

i wonder if this is really it.

if this is the beginnings of depression.

you forget how it used to be, how it took you over. years i spent fighting it off. honing happiness. cultivating joy. there is nothing for me now but going through the motions of breathing.

if only the people i want to comfort me would, without me saying anything.

(Inspired by a dance hall lyric of all things & not done…)

November 4, 2006 2:41

I just want to be around you,
not inside you.

___ We wrap our legs in each other,
and it’s friendship,
our kisses are made
with fingertips running down
our mind ___

I touch your head to feel alive
based on assumption
we’re eating each other
with ____

yet, it don’t matter because
inside, in bed,
we feed off
the poetry that is love.

You heard it before yea?
I mean the love that holds
hands not dicks
the love that is equal
not based on power
I mean the love when I see you
happy with someone else
my heart ____
because we don’t need that -

our friendship suffers through relationships
so we don’t have to.

II.

This friendship is a mirror,
because I look at you, and
my eyes can actually see -
I look at you staring back
at me knowingly,

united we stand
and together we fall.

The lyrics change with us,
we remix love into a
man-woman friendship.
We remix assumptions of
sleeping together.

III.

We don’t need to quote literature
or love songs because moments
evolve of our synergy. We bleed
the poetry that which we write
for each other.

But can I really tell you something?
I’m dying to be inside you.
for you inside me.

My friend tells me, “You are a total rooster so it’s [my age] easy to remember.”

Reading the below, I guess I really am.

People born in the Year of the Rooster are deep thinkers, capable, and talented. They like to be busy and are devoted beyond their capabilities and are deeply disappointed if they fail. People born in the Rooster Year are often a bit eccentric, and often have rather difficult relationship with others. They always think they are right and usually are! They frequently are loners and though they give the outward impression of being adventurous, they are timid. Rooster people’s emotions like their fortunes, swing very high to very low. They can be selfish and too outspoken, but are always interesting and can be extremely brave. They are most compatible with Ox, Snake, and Dragon.