you would only let a girl grab at your cock if you considered her an intellectual
well except on your birthday, anything went. it was like a horny celebration
you would climb through their windows and shed your mud covered boots;
rip off their clothes, strangle them with your shoelaces, and give them new garbage bag dresses
you'd go back home every night and have a liquor revolution
i'd dig my fingernails into my hips while i slouched up against the wall, watching you.














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"We are so much the victims of abstraction that with the Earth in flames we can barely rouse ourselves to wander across the room and look at the thermostat."
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