no te asustes

"do you like black licorice?" he asks me nonchalantly in our dimly lit kitchen. "I love it." I say enthusiastically. "of course you do." he laughs "you're me." This happens a lot. It happens all the fucking time. It's ridiculous to live in as much fear as we do about this love, when the signs …

susurra

There are tones and there are timbres in a whisper, that are hardly heard. They’re reminiscent of cicadas, or indigestion. They’re the ringing in your ears, trains on tracks, hands on doorknobs, lips on lips. We live our lives loudly, with constant distractions, anticipations and anxieties. I am shaken awake by sirens and discordant moans …

fucking tactile

There are no rules, no obligations. All we have are choices and feelings, whispers and the inevitable moon looking at us through open windows. Work is hilarious, it chimes in my ear sweet nothings regarding deadlines and comps that must be sent to Doctor's. I'm lazy, but I manage. I wear sandals because the Apocalypse …