Stranger things.

Never kiss a stranger.
Strangers are just a puff of air, a momentary nausea.
Don’t kiss a stranger unless their thoughts and laughs are no longer strangers to you.
Fucking strangers at strange places.
You kiss her, you touch her and she heaves. While you’re furiously kissing her, momentarily (accidentally) you look into her eyes and you are staring at the vacuum blackness of her eyes.
I touch her body, never her soul.
You run your fingers on her body and there is no music.
A guilt ridden roller coaster.

My lips rush everywhere through her body for that one spot of intimacy so that I can feel home.

The inside of her mouth doesn’t have my salvation.

Emptiness. Stark emptiness.  Like a lonely naked child groping water in the river.

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3 thoughts on “Stranger things.

  1. Deep.
    Well written. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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