I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.
Most things about me are hard to explain, I guess, like how I’m mostly delusional and live in a half-imaginary world but am also a realist to the core. I’m just a bunch of contradictions most of the time and I don’t like it, but I also do.
I don’t give a shit about grand gestures or flowers at my door, I just want your teeth across my neck and my lips pressed to the small of your back, I want your stupid fucking sense of humour making me laugh at 4am when I have to be up at 6.