amy sez I'm not touching a computer while I'm here so this is from my notebook
so the rain comes again and long sundays never leaving bed, lunch brought by "women's college" lesbians, interrupted only by the occasional phone. But really it's just us two, and a boyfriend of distorted proportions - he occupies a space of prevention perhaps, she surmises - growth and she wants me.[do you really want to hear this? she thinks I'm corny. and dorky. and creepy. she calls me to hear my voice, can't get enuf of that dorky nasally stuff before bed monday - Editor.]she wants neither me to stop her from seeing himI alternate between steady sobriety and aforementioned cadavar positioning
nor him to prevent her from seeing me
or the stroking breathing cheek to cheek temptation and hard on and behind the knees. she is so beautiful
and kissing at times so naturalwe didn't kiss. not in the bed all day, we rolled around skin to skin and talked and compared. but did not even come really close to wet sharing.
like looking or leaning
but we debate between sex as severance restraint for weeks, not seeing each other as tension as we play with each other.
and it is sunday, and we have spent the day on bed
more and more I was become convinced that the sex hunger is too great and once in some major portion sassified would be guilt or recrimination or dissatisfaction or usury ridden
4.30 she turns on kind of blue and reads me from ecclesiastesearly relating, so many points of agreement:
she plays me bill evans, kind of blue from a panasonic childhood shitty tape deck
my swollen testes,
she "the first woman with blue balls.
we both wrote papers in school in prostitution in thailandthe obvious physical need presented by blue balls + desire versus noticing need for physical affirmation
she's thai, some half, quarter irish, quarter british
we share the ; semicolon favourite punctuation mark
we're both spending thanksgiving in chicago
she will be visiting her boyfriend
it is already as howard calls judy, "his addiction"
you still like me? I'm asking if I over frustrated her
so I'm asking if I frustrate her? jesus.
she is taking photos of me
half naked, taking notes,
a woman who resonates with creative mojo has good partner potential
and photos together I laugh a lot with her
she has a damn wide grin
smalls her eyes and shapes her face
she calls me "creepy"
I'm trying to note the little and the big,
I lament early days largely unrecorded
early poems about chandra, I knew everything.
reading the bible takes mind off stiff nuts
still in bed
she finds my physical and facial humour more funny than my verbal wordwit.
we reach quite a heat and passion and finally avoid more than lip rubbing until she showered we share some scant smooch
but there is work to be done, and now out of bed clothing limits
and still restraint
friends headed to thai foodshe exposes me to a mills tv ritual xfiles
we are already natural
between making fun of each other, carrying on, telling stories together of our brief shared reality
we make a good team
I am pleasantly surprised
that was fast
my first viewing of this well followed show - pretty much sucked
ponderous presumptous tedius and tenuous
I mean the episode had the word "musings" in the title
x-philes tell me they are usually better.
the only good thing was the apocalypse now direct quoting in the first scene
I've seen that movie so many times I knew the dialog mostly by heart
we rent casino, no one else is staying
ryan and kara a bit
the couch to ourselves we beneath a blanket meld
caught close and cuddling by margie, jonathan, ellen
it is late, we break the movie and return to bed
I realize late that I have christiana in the morn
she has class and work and
so we retire
cast the i ching before hand
without going into spiritsharing detail, I think it affirmed our wetness waiting
(13 becomes 41)
we're laying on each other briefly before bed must come for some sleep
am I a wicked sinner? I ask
because I am have some slight trouble kissing her, thinking about her boyfriend
and she says she will not tell him yet
she will wait for seeing him - the phone don't work
I've always encouraged truthtelling but this is indecipherable
I can't insist or imagine their communicate
so I abdicate, and begin to sleep
she is laying to me left, playing her fingers over my chest and face
I descend to doze and wake with her nails pinching my nose tip
I wake say huh?
she apologizes profusely, like caught
immediately rolls over on her side and falls silent
I can't figure to laugh or what
but on my side having trouble sleeping,
what was she doing?
I rise to set a second alarm to assure wakeup
she rises some "did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!"
I'm stuck wondering if she was working some kind of ritual or magic with my sleeping nasal extremity