(no subject)
last night when your soft lips embraced my skin and you swept the hair out of my face, even if you were ridiculously drunk (i refrain from using the phrase inappropriately drunk because it was your birthday) i felt the rawness of life. I was overcome with the drunken, coarse reality that maybe i could love you after all. the sublime effects of the alcohol perhaps pushed me towards attaining this craftless premonitoin that feels as if it was ripped straight out of the an equally craftless soap opera. whatevs. lets do this.