'Here we are. Again.' he thought, as he lay on the sofa. Chocolate brown in it's shade merging with his naked cocoa brown form but for the black boxers.
These boxers. The one she got him, 'cause nothing makes a man look sexier than a black 'package-hugger'. This amused him. She amused him. He missed nonsensical conversations revolving around sex and times galore. It had been 52 days, 12 hours and 27 minutes since he last saw her walking away slightly embarassed by the sudden out-pouring of what was and what could have been, had the fates conspired otherwise. If only..
Middle of the day and he longed for some companionship. Any companionship especially since the kind he longed for could not be found or rather he was too tired to look for. It always took an eternity for him to accept one and once accepted it took a millenium to stop accepting it. 'What a Catch 22', he laughed suddenly hoping for a distractant.
It had been a while and the distractants had been doing a wonderful job. A job worthy of commendation.
The sun shines brightly now and a breeze tickles as it makes its mind on which direction and answers to take with it. I wish I could put this down in words, he mused. Create a myriad of colors aptly described by words that would make a grown man simper down in tears and a timid man feel so powerful. His ego knew no bounds and his need to be scandalous addictive yet, he was too shy to open that door.
A lady with a voice of purple silk crooned and a lonely cup of tea lay beside a half-smoked cancer-stick. The purpose of either not known but the victims of a whim they all were and, just like everything it was a purpose that had been duly forgotten.
People were expected home and all he wanted before the noise engulfed them all was a lifetime of solitude under a searing water-flow. Even if he hated the rains, he loved being immersed in water. A purging of the soul and an eternal damnation of the highs.
What. A. Rush. he thought, as he reached for the tepid cup of tea and a huge intake of nicotine..
These boxers. The one she got him, 'cause nothing makes a man look sexier than a black 'package-hugger'. This amused him. She amused him. He missed nonsensical conversations revolving around sex and times galore. It had been 52 days, 12 hours and 27 minutes since he last saw her walking away slightly embarassed by the sudden out-pouring of what was and what could have been, had the fates conspired otherwise. If only..
Middle of the day and he longed for some companionship. Any companionship especially since the kind he longed for could not be found or rather he was too tired to look for. It always took an eternity for him to accept one and once accepted it took a millenium to stop accepting it. 'What a Catch 22', he laughed suddenly hoping for a distractant.
It had been a while and the distractants had been doing a wonderful job. A job worthy of commendation.
The sun shines brightly now and a breeze tickles as it makes its mind on which direction and answers to take with it. I wish I could put this down in words, he mused. Create a myriad of colors aptly described by words that would make a grown man simper down in tears and a timid man feel so powerful. His ego knew no bounds and his need to be scandalous addictive yet, he was too shy to open that door.
A lady with a voice of purple silk crooned and a lonely cup of tea lay beside a half-smoked cancer-stick. The purpose of either not known but the victims of a whim they all were and, just like everything it was a purpose that had been duly forgotten.
People were expected home and all he wanted before the noise engulfed them all was a lifetime of solitude under a searing water-flow. Even if he hated the rains, he loved being immersed in water. A purging of the soul and an eternal damnation of the highs.
What. A. Rush. he thought, as he reached for the tepid cup of tea and a huge intake of nicotine..
