05-09-07 transmutation

archival. a moment in which different choices are made, and the knowing of them as such.

Coming back to this briefly before bed. I shouldn’t. I know it. But
I’m in a frame of mind that seems to be demanding it. So I am.

Admittedly, the notion of someone yearning for me is delightful. More
than it should be, given circumstances.

I’m tempted to indulge fantasy… and may… but likely not here. The
question is, why am I compelled to tell you this? Ego? Likely. Sigh.
Loneliness? Surely it is in the equation.

I sit here and think of the things you have said, here and there,
indicators of thoughts unshared. References to how you listen to my
recorded words to hear my breathing. References to how you listen to
my words.

It’s like sunlight, you know. Or perhaps rain. Sluicing sweetness that
dips and reaches secret places, tender places that have long wanted
notice. I hadn’t thought about it… but now that I do… it occurs to
me the focus you gave to ‘glyphs, lips, hips’… oh my. Oh my indeed.

I suppose I tell you this to give back to you what you have given me
in the mentioning. That sense of fullness, thickened honey pulse that
slows and crawls in an almost obscene deliberation – feeding embers
that crackle and hungrily lick for every drop of sensation.

Dangerous business, sir. But you know this. As do I. I like you,
——- . I’d like to be a good friend to you, for you. I’d like to
know you for years. I’m not sure that can happen with heat and
yearning in the frame. It is there. No denial. But I mean to allow it
to be more than a cloud in the sky, if that makes sense.

If I wrap myself in you in this way, I shall likely not become
disentangled without pain. I am so tired of hurting, ——- . And
while a temporary delight is not without temptation… I believe I
would prefer to love you well as a friend than love and lose you for
the inevitable destruction that waits all such fantasy.

Honesty. Always. It’s the best gift I can offer. And I give it freely.
Because in truth, I do like you, and care, and want that to be more
than just words.

But oh, it will be difficult to sleep. Damn it. (crooked smile)

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