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2013-04-03 - 6:02 p.m.

hey you walk so slow

his jeans are low across his hips, dragged down by the weight of waterlogged denim. i can see the way the muscles taper in his lower back, the whorl of hairs on his tummy. his tongue is tucked between his teeth in concentration, and he looks so sweet and very young.

on the way home, the car fills up with the smell of his laundry soap and the anxiety that pours off his skin in waves. it's tough to be in an enclosed space with this guy, sometimes. i love him so much my whole heart hurts.

* * *


reading: the artificial silk girl, by irmgard keun.
listening to: cftpa, my mister smith.
working on: ugh, it's too sad to even say.
in the garden: these cool temperatures have put my narcissus on pause at their peak, and it's wonderful.


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