August 2010
1 post
Breathing hard, static on the line. Ill never get enough emptiness (complete satisfaction) of telephonic sex. I imagine you undressing and I can barely stand. Turn down the lights Your mouth turns me to rust So lets unwind You can’t escape the hotline Take your picture, bite you on the neck. It’s all I wanna do. Secretly romancing the recluse There is no touch, I am dead (completley...
