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you act like the sun shines out of his dick,
She never dates—no time or desire—but
this is a bit of me, I totally get her.
In an instant of sudden, vivid clarity, he can’t believe he ever thought he was straight.
The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me.
Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all?
This whole paragraph just feels like a warm hug whilst heavy rain hits the window and everything else just ebbs away.
Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.
“Strawberry daiquiris all day.”
At cruising altitude, he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring on next to the old house key. They clink together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side.
but only you and I will know that I’m just sprawled in your bed, reading books and feeding myself profiteroles
don’t know. I’ve eaten a tremendous amount of Jaffa Cakes about it, to be frank.
You see, for me, memories are difficult. Very often, they hurt.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having saved me. I was drowning and you threw yourself into the water without hesitation, without a backward look.
“Then, fuck it.”
“I fucking love you.”
Always hesitant to step on anyone’s moment. That’s not going to fly anymore. He’s family. He’s part of it all now, headlines and oil paintings and pages in the Library of Congress, etched right alongside. And he’s part of them. Goddamn forever.
