this guy's voice has a nice sound, like under the waves on the equator, smooth and tropical fresh. ben's voice is like pears playing at your tastebuds. johnny's voice at night is honey dripping slowly, rich and gold.
i seem to live in stages. friend with boys, friends with girls. lonesome and quiet sometimes, a missing point to place both feet in one world. a guy on the drag sells pictures made of raw pastels, creamy sliding into togetherness.
i wish i was going to prom. the sexy feeling of hands and fingers holding my waist. i tried to give up looking, but part of me, i think, always moves, always looks. acoustic guitars play me into the disappearing sun. i can't help but smile when i look forlorn. tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow. i try to take my courage w/ me.