(no subject)
I got your text a week ago, heard from the pocket of my jeans through the noise of the traffic, and then the second, with its vibration, carrying up from that place near my crotch, though my gut to my heart, and finally to my more logically reasoning head.
It’s you, I see at the flip (yes, old and old school).
I don’t read them until later, though, because then, until then, they might say anything, anything at all that I might imagine they could.
I responded today that, no, I don’t wish you’d finally leave me alone for good.
It’s you, I see at the flip (yes, old and old school).
I don’t read them until later, though, because then, until then, they might say anything, anything at all that I might imagine they could.
I responded today that, no, I don’t wish you’d finally leave me alone for good.