(no subject)
we've been lying to ourselves. royal we? nah you too. brother sister dynamic, friends for life truth til death. oh sure. sweep it all under the rug and let its malignance fester. we are children, and we need well defined boundaries, lest we flop on one another, fumble with buttons, flop sweat. I saw you naked when you were a teenager and vice versa. I saw you on him, with him inside you. I was confused, and disgusted, but entranced and excited. and then it was my turn theoretically, astral projections. internet beat off fun parade. jerk off hotline on a flip phone from your ma's house. but we were young. and how much meaning, feeling, desirous sludge can you really generate from such half measure? we were friends, and we helped each other. and you were my sister and I was your brother when I wasn't shuddering to orgasm with your encouragement. surely. we soften, we stretch, our cable linking us elastic. jokes and advise and pleasantries and presents, and sometimes dirty polaroids with unbending intent. and suns rise and I rise and suns set and I rise and i'm risable. and we're in my apartment and your tit's in my hand. and I squeeze and its my hand around the noose on your neck, trying to loosen, trying to break it. trying to break his hold on you and tighten my own. for nothing. a notch in the loss column and I'm without friend and sister and all the rest. and then you're with me again, and we're lying in bed. and I want to, and I ache to, and I waffle and cower and crow to myself. how it's wrong and unfair, and play dress up in white knight's colors. my filth and my desire and my selfishness legion, rolling their eyes in unison at this sudden need to be gallant. you join them: you stare at my dick in my shorts. you're hungry, you leak words of desire from your lips. but I'm torn and I'm shook and I'm scared and my confidence has left me. the years incremental leading to it and I blink. and it's gone, and we go back to pretending. you're gone again. you're back, we go to lunch. you linger at the elevator, and you look up at me with longing. and I ignore it. and we go out for drinks. and you stall at the T stop and you look at me. and your eyes tell me to kiss you. and I don't. I'm stuck in my clothes now, play acting a sexless laughing robot. and we go on shambling in the dark, rubbing dry palms, nothing more. and you visit, and we're drunk, and we're alone. and you joke that we should jerk off together. and it's a joke. and it isn't. and you say it again. and it's less a joke than before when it wasn't really a joke. but there's plausible deniability. and I give it to you. and then who knows what. images of asses in spandex bending over, straining. strainging my eyes and my heart and my head. dirty dancing on the kitchen floor in the morning light. a joke. but never a joke. it was my fault after all, for pretending to believe our own lies. you did it out of necessity, I did it out of stupidity. you needed the shield when you weren't available. I had no excuse, no reason. I was just playing along. and now the game's over and I want to right all the wrongs, but of course that's impossible. sliding into irrelevance, the old ballplayer frozen in a daydream of imagined glorydays. that's it for highlights. smoke and mirrors, easily overlooked. yet there. we both know it. but only one of us still cares.