the knee cleavage.

strange dreams.
that first time.

an awkward annoying call. leads to another awkward call for favors & pancake lies. transported to my duke in distress as a warm body for his clammy hands to hold.

that dream was so metaphorical of that moment. almost symmetrical in another dimension. i'll warm your hands, feel your breath in the curve of my neck. wonder why your impulses frighten me. like playing a piano, knowing the waves of sound can only be remembered for a limited amount of time. it's better that way, it makes fibs easier to eat & digest; their filth tasting good & pure to the innocent.

such a confusing dream. such a real dream. if i say, "i need to forget it," i know it will only stay longer than desired. why would a thought be planted?

5..4...3..2...1...
never again.