Blank Walls
Blank Walls A found musing from 2011, accompanied by 35mm BnW film from the same time period. The air is foggy on the porch. With my assessments, with smoke, with expectancy, with nerves; I don’t know. But long past Midnight - the smoke is burning my eyes. But so isn’t your skin with the slightest touch. Hot to the touch. It burns right through me. Touch, touch, touch. I never touch. Black Label on my breath, and my lungs surrendering to nicotine. You don’t know who I am. I'm not even sure at this moment I know who I am. I want to feel enticing. I want to feel weightless. I breath into your neck, and up to your ear. "Do you want to fuck me?"I whisper. You grin. Nod. And I ask if you want to be lead to a friend’s empty room. This isn’t my house, but I know the way. You don't seem excited, and you’re limp in my hands and for a second I think, does he not think I’m beautiful? You will though. I'll make sure of it. My thoughts are interrupted when I pau
