Tonight is redolent of digitised orgasms, forlorn hours of stolen moments, sandpaper caresses and plastic clouds with jagged edges.
In this primrose debris of soft edged dissonance, I hear my breath echo inside myself before lashing out to meet the walls and crumble into dust that is conveniently vacuumed the next morning.
Now tugging on a cosmic string in hopes of wrenching out your heart, most lovingly so and I don't say this defensively, for even my most malicious doings will be done with a bit of wink, a soft kiss, surgically swift..enough to feel only a bit of pain, a garden of thorns softly bedewed.
Nighttime and the soul is emptied of all bearings filled with foibles of all manners..come now..cure me of this ghastly somnolence or dissolve into a foamy rapture of endless dreams.
Kisses..
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