Crossing | Part Three

And finally, I’m here, meeting face-to-face with all my expectations, assumptions and glamourized ideas. Now that I’ve crossed the bridge there’s so much for me to do and I can’t wait to do it all

 

But there’s a part of me that can’t help but remember I can always go back.

 

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Autosexual | Part Three

I can stare at you for hours as you brush your hair while singing jazz music that plays smoothly on your gramophone-designed radio, and all I can think about is my touch – every single fingerprint etched into your skin.

It’s become a ritual I’ve timed my days around so I can witness you engulf yourself in your own saxophone performance in your hair brush. You are my erotic, amorous, obscene obsession.  I’m sure you know that, don’t you?

There are so many quirks I like about you. I like the way your nose twitches like a bunny exactly five seconds before you sneeze.  I want the perfume of our escapades to become etched into your nose after.

I’m enamored by how your tongue visits the corners of your mouth whenever you’re deep in thought. I want every taste, every scratch, every moment of our coition to be etched into your mind.

I indulge in branding you with my devotion. The mere exploration of your body is my greatest achievement.

Somedays I can’t bear the thoughts and desires that linger in the seconds before we meet again.

I’m the only one with you in your reflection. Always. We are one.

Even now as I stand here, lost in the depths of your eyes, willingly exposed in front of this mirror; I begin to feel the thrill of this self-love addiction.

I am me, and so are you, and there’s no lover better than that.


Neena, oh Neena. What a beautiful girl we are. 

A_t_sex_al | Part Two

I want my touch – every single fingerprint etched into your skin.

I want the perfume of our escapades to become etched into your nose.

I want every taste, every scratch, every moment of our coition to be etched into your mind.

I want to brand you with my devotion.

I want the mere exploration of your body to be my greatest achievement.

Somedays I can’t bear the thoughts and desires that linger in the seconds before we meet again.

You are my erotic, amorous, obscene obsession. I’m sure you know that, don’t you?

No one can have you.

Can you feel the mania streaming through my veins with every jagged breath? I’m the only one with you in your reflection. Always.

Leaving isn’t an option. We are one.


I love you Neena.

A_t_s_x_al | Part One

She’s imperfect.

She’s perfect to me.

I stare at her for hours as she brushes her hair while singing jazz music that plays smoothly on her gramophone-designed radio. It’s become a ritual I’ve timed my days around so I can witness her engulf herself in her own saxophone performance in her hair brush. There are so many quirks I like about her. I like the way her nose twitches like a bunny exactly five seconds before she sneezes. I adore the way she interchanges her Z’s and S’s as her own quirky way of being cute. I’m enamored by how her tongue visits the corners of her mouth whenever she’s deep in thought.

She’s so careful yet intense.

I want to pick her brain but it feels like I know her well enough already. Her being is something I can never fathom; she’s a fantasy to get lost in forever.

I can’t wait to watch her again.


Love,

Neena