So I am sitting here in my miss-buttoned strawberry print pajamas, the heat beginning to dissipate from the city and my bed, feeling a bit out of sorts.

Perhaps it’s the Lavalife/Nerve/Gay.com date-a-thon that I have been on since my mid-May breakup. The amount of dirty old men on these sites is amazing and depressing, especially when their pics show a tiny slice of the wife on one side and a wee bit of one of the kids on the other. They are all looking for “discreet” encounters. How fucking horrible! The internet becomes a place where these soulless desperate dudes troll for anyone as desperate looking for the hookup. I mean, they made a choice and instead staying true and honest, they slink around, looking for the sad and lonely of the herd to pounce on, like hyenas and jackals.

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My eyes
A direct conduit to deep varieties of thought
Your body
A direction not to be taken
A taste not to be savored
Your eyes
Leer lingers like a hot hand
My breasts my mouth my skin
Taste me roll me on your tongue
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