Wednesday, March 26, 2008

...but you're in my bed tonight

As soon as I saw her arms I wanted to cry. They were exactly as you had described, in abstract terms of course, but here they were. Real flesh and bone and ink. All of your favorite things, mentioned in passing, were there. The shapes, colors, the proportions. All along you were telling me that what you wanted, that what you liked, was her.

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