Tuesday, February 17, 2015

People Eating Fruit.

We were spent. We glowed in the light of one another's eyes although we were both supine. The bed was like a raft, not as much as due to the sweat and the effort we left on it, but in how we drifted. Side-by-side, hand-in-hand, up and down.

We talked about Caribou- well, I did, you just listened, and you laughed at the parts I wanted you to. You seemed to enjoy it as much as I did. Your eyes responded with a flare of delight when I equated music to sunlight. You told me not to be so hard on myself and I told you you were right.

I drove you to your car.

We exchanged numbers.

I liked the sound of your voice and how eager you were to please.

You said this was the first and last blowjob of your career.

I can respect that. I believe you when you say I was the first person to ever go down on you, and that's a tragedy. It was fun and so were you. You definitely seemed to enjoy it.

You walked off into the night, I caved to some Jack in the Box which I'd regret the next morning. The only thing I would.

We'll likely never talk again.

I hope you'll remember me too.

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