Promdifiction is Moving
Promdifiction is moving to its new home. <3
(Source: promdifiction.tabulas.com)
I Love You
At
the
tip
of
your
tongue
was
my
nipple
straining
hard
to
hear
Crosspost from a Facebook note Circa 2008
An Ode to that Corner on Whitehouse, Apt. G-8
That corner is a fortress, bounded by walls of laundry baskets (laundry baskets that act as walls), to shield us from an army of prying eyes that might come through the unlocked door, using a supposed misplaced towel as an excuse. to perchance, happen upon glowing traces of your fingertips on the unchartered expanse of flesh revealed by my raised shirt (or is it a raised white flag signaling defeat?), but more importantly, to create an invisible moat that stretches for miles and miles, so that whispers (and whimpers) of love, that you so desperately fear, by the couple next to us, would just turn to hollow echoes trapped inside dirty clothes.
That corner, where I waited, is why I waited for you to come home, so I could kiss you under the covers (so no one would see the secret that is me) and play with your ears with my tongue (that made you moan like a cat being stroked ever so gently by his owner’s hand) and just see you there lying beside me in absolute peace (my solace,my solace,my solace), had our borrowed bed, borrowed sheets, borrowed (shared) sleep.
That corner, saw us in our contradictions, you looked at my lips with eyes of a boy seeing love for the first time while your fingers lustfully trace the geometry of my anatomy like a man who’ve had his share of female bodies other than mine, and I, lying there, unsure if I was predator or prey, memories birthed through words and lustful gazes, (do you remember? you must remember) that can’t be contained by walls of laundry baskets (laundry baskets that act as walls) or of fortresses.
Crosspost from my LiveJournal, Circa 2005
