Thought about your ass in my hands.

Some cool guitar acoustics playing on my speakers. Another day. Stayed in bed until noon. Made love to you. Got up. Brushed my teeth. Threw everything out of my fridge and into the trash can. Kept the door closed. I am the biggest criminal. I am the violation, the wound, the biggest crack in this earth. I am the one who gets killed. Sat in my chair, turned on my laptop, thought about lighting a cigarette, thought about your ass in my hands again and again. Lit a cigarette and smoked and thought about your ass in my hands all through the noon. Turned of the speakers, left my chair and got in bed again.

Finally got up from bed at five in the evening. Took bath. Played some guitar acoustics again. Sat in my chair. Lit another cigarette and smoked Looked outside the window. The same old leaves hanging down the same old branches. The same old cloudless sky. The same old sound of the rustling of leaves. Ache in my eyes. Maybe it’s from the cigarette smoke. Maybe it’s from something else. All I know is that it’s there.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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