Post by ember on Dec 5, 2003 2:05:49 GMT -5
see you in december
can i?
will you let me?
you ask over the phone
it’s 1:38 a.m. and we haven’t talked since early october
no of course not i say and laugh—
i’m not like that.
it’s late but
i drive over there anyway
and there you are
unshaven but still beautiful to me
and you’re smoking
but you stub it out
and rinse your mouth with that diet coke
which you leave there on the curb
half-finished.
we get in the car and there’s nothing to do
but drive to parker ranch
and gaze at the string of feeble lights we call a view.
this is what i’ve dreamed of
oh this is what i’ve wanted
to sithereandholdyourhandandlieonyourchestandmeltintoyourmouth.
i want to make love to you you whisper
and you kiss me at that spot that i like.
can i?
will you let me?
and i say yes yes yes.
you unbutton my jeans and i think
god thank god i didn’t wear two pairs of pants
today, and don’t you love
my cute candy cane underwear?
the black stockings
which reach up to my knees
are strangely erotic to you
and there you are
unshaven but still beautiful to me.
you grab yourself and search for your destination
i grab your shirt and pull you toward me
you find it and push yourself into me
closing the age and racial gaps and everything in between
as i gasp ow ow ow.
idon’tknowwhati’mdoingwhoareyouthishurtswhatarewedoingwhatarewe?
he opens the passenger door
and the cool breeze sweeps in
and he goes out there and smokes.
i can’t find my clothes where are my clothes
and kevin i’m bleeding look i’m bleeding
i feel very open
too open down there.
it’s okay you say
you look like the morning after a good f**k
and you have become something
you are a woman you are my woman.
no, i’ve only become nothing
i am an impure nonvirgin
and it’s time for me to go home goodnight.
i call the next day
and you don’t even answer
i drive over there anyway and there it is
the can of diet coke, half-finished.
11.03.03//9:07pm
revised 11.04.03//10:29pm
can i?
will you let me?
you ask over the phone
it’s 1:38 a.m. and we haven’t talked since early october
no of course not i say and laugh—
i’m not like that.
it’s late but
i drive over there anyway
and there you are
unshaven but still beautiful to me
and you’re smoking
but you stub it out
and rinse your mouth with that diet coke
which you leave there on the curb
half-finished.
we get in the car and there’s nothing to do
but drive to parker ranch
and gaze at the string of feeble lights we call a view.
this is what i’ve dreamed of
oh this is what i’ve wanted
to sithereandholdyourhandandlieonyourchestandmeltintoyourmouth.
i want to make love to you you whisper
and you kiss me at that spot that i like.
can i?
will you let me?
and i say yes yes yes.
you unbutton my jeans and i think
god thank god i didn’t wear two pairs of pants
today, and don’t you love
my cute candy cane underwear?
the black stockings
which reach up to my knees
are strangely erotic to you
and there you are
unshaven but still beautiful to me.
you grab yourself and search for your destination
i grab your shirt and pull you toward me
you find it and push yourself into me
closing the age and racial gaps and everything in between
as i gasp ow ow ow.
idon’tknowwhati’mdoingwhoareyouthishurtswhatarewedoingwhatarewe?
he opens the passenger door
and the cool breeze sweeps in
and he goes out there and smokes.
i can’t find my clothes where are my clothes
and kevin i’m bleeding look i’m bleeding
i feel very open
too open down there.
it’s okay you say
you look like the morning after a good f**k
and you have become something
you are a woman you are my woman.
no, i’ve only become nothing
i am an impure nonvirgin
and it’s time for me to go home goodnight.
i call the next day
and you don’t even answer
i drive over there anyway and there it is
the can of diet coke, half-finished.
11.03.03//9:07pm
revised 11.04.03//10:29pm