What a lesbian thinks...
No, I sat still all day watching sappy little sitcoms of hearts. Every little kiss one person made tickled me; my toes curled and I hid my face behind the pillow. I listened to each and every song that played on tv. I closed my eyes and licked my lips; rubbed the cool of my foot against the smooth of my calf. I breathed and laughed; I felt my heart against my chest. All this in a day.
I tried to eat..without thinking of being accompanied. Breakfast. Brunch. Lunch. Dinner. Dessert. I took a shower and ignored passing thoughts of an extra body. Drying off and laying in my bed, I toyed with the idea of being caressed with gentle hands; nimple fingers...soft, delicious, delicate lips...
I wiped away greed and placed my hands on my stomach; drew little circles up my body in deep inspire of my own mind. I said your name to a whisper. No, I wasn't going to stop this little game in my mind. Oh, GOD no.
Like this, I pretended you'd be home soon. You'd stand there in a the door way and watch me...this desire to explore nagging at you. The need to taste this..and that....to hold. Yea, I know what you're thinking. I know it by the way your lips curl up; the way you look at me through the bangs of your hair. I can feel it...between here... and there...just as I know you are....oh yes you are...
I lay in bed gazing at the ceiling and took to the setting sun. I've been this way all day, I have. Some magnificent roles of two characters played love in my mind. This is something else.
I turned to the window, naked, warm..aroused. My little eyes traced the sun and the horizon outside my cozy little bedroom. Serbert filled my room. I paste my smile deeply. I want you so bad. Biting my bottom lip, I slip my hand under my pillow and draw you behind me. I feel your arms drape over my waist as you pull me into you. Your lips brush against my ear...my neck. I grin, moan and hold on to this cheesy little cliche. Your peirced tongue tasting here... and there...and you laugh as I squeeze the bed spread. Why are you so good at what you do?
This is the picture I paint all day. What I could give you...what you do give me. You're not even here but that couldn't be a problem. It's so innocent. Firey. Passionate.
I've seen you're you...whatever I looked into. Distraction being at it's best; I don't think I've done one thing right today.I didn't feed the cat...I didn't go to work. Mmm, but of course this sin is delicious, baby.
I love the way you're smiling in my mind. How after we touch; sheets covering our naked bodies, you'll leave bed to watch me sleep. Watch me wake up; I see you gazing intently. You smirk. You lick your lips. You say my name. You watch me so deeply across the room in your little chair. The morning plays sidle. I watch you light a cigarette. And baby, you've never looked so good.
It's getting even later and I still haven't stopped. I perked my fantasies with every little breath I took; squeezing my breasts...wanting you to touch them. So deep, inviting, penetrating to my hourly day, I sometimes slip my hands between my legs and pretend a little bit more. It's not healthy...or...is it? To create a sappy little lovefest in my mind with you. No...I don't care.
It's 6 a.m. and I am an insomniac. I know you're asleep thinking of your life; you're future. Sometimes, you can include me. Don't tell me, let it be all secret. Let me fantasize about your fantasies. Okay?
Dear baby, I create you. I create us. I love what you've done with the space in my head.
Cest la vie, ma bebe. And that's the way it is...