On the Prowl
A floating candle in wetness resides nearby.
So do many hot tamales.
Long overdue - I went to the art store finally to peruse their supplies. A foreigner... vagabondish - lad took it upon himself follow me about the store and wait upon my every whim... good job. He's totally not my type - but a good accent and an arts background can make leaps and bounds in my book.... that Writer will publish someday... Paul Delaroche... Martyr... that's a very personal thing no?
and Paul called - I think ... what would it cost - what part of my soul to run away with him to see the world... he wants to go - I just need the time... he has the money - I love my work that keeps me bound - it is my mistress. Only because hot tamales lack appendages and a brain. Cost = selling your soul - he def. would want to sleep with me and I not him... not anymore... not when seeing an exotic province would be more orgasmic than he... mind you I think a lot of him, but not in my bed.
Adventure never leaves without an element of danger... I know however that I could bring this modulated gov. worker a ton of adventure ... his escort muse... but what do I do when the subject of sex arises (no pun intended) oh headache, oh stomache ache, oh your underwear just isn't matching my bra...?
Alas... what to do?
ah the things I should share but do not.... oh well.
I worked on my art until 3 am last night - knowing I had to work in the morning. Yes, I'm back.
So do many hot tamales.
Long overdue - I went to the art store finally to peruse their supplies. A foreigner... vagabondish - lad took it upon himself follow me about the store and wait upon my every whim... good job. He's totally not my type - but a good accent and an arts background can make leaps and bounds in my book.... that Writer will publish someday... Paul Delaroche... Martyr... that's a very personal thing no?
and Paul called - I think ... what would it cost - what part of my soul to run away with him to see the world... he wants to go - I just need the time... he has the money - I love my work that keeps me bound - it is my mistress. Only because hot tamales lack appendages and a brain. Cost = selling your soul - he def. would want to sleep with me and I not him... not anymore... not when seeing an exotic province would be more orgasmic than he... mind you I think a lot of him, but not in my bed.
Adventure never leaves without an element of danger... I know however that I could bring this modulated gov. worker a ton of adventure ... his escort muse... but what do I do when the subject of sex arises (no pun intended) oh headache, oh stomache ache, oh your underwear just isn't matching my bra...?
Alas... what to do?
ah the things I should share but do not.... oh well.
I worked on my art until 3 am last night - knowing I had to work in the morning. Yes, I'm back.