i could have and was more controversial than i ever ever am. it sure is hot.
i wish the storms would come and blow rain through the window.
there’s always a window
, and i like that billowing light white curtains look-like naked thighs when the storm begins.
hello vixen across the hall, i love you
is that thunder please?
i miss the clacking-slap and flamm-bash.
never did i know what we were doing either, but i knew your tone and intonation.
how’s it working for you since
, are the droplets swathing in with your wordly storm onto our skins my corsetted vixen across the fall?