the first day of the year of (27) wonders
i wonder what will come first.
sips of well aged whiskey underground
with a few close loves, a game of darts.
throwing them "briskly" in a manner
that evokes speed and efficiency. one
more time again and again. mr. wins the
game with a precise number... i called it.
a walk back to the apartment, midnight
appears swiftly, calmly, no longer the
first of December. my day of birth
was a brilliant arrangement of subtle
moments all adding up to... a night full of
discovery. we reached positions that are
not our usual exploration, but much deeper
and thought out. i suppose that when i
said "forever", i meant exactly that. wrapped
up and dangling off the edge of the four
post bed, our long hair hangs... each crevice
is filled to the brim and i can't stand to ever
leave his passionate grasp. then morning comes...
