subjectivity and netsex

*****

my center rules me all turbulence displays rubbing...I've never realized any of this before but now my body advises...reconfigures resenses I'm entering again...take me in this purple hard night and show me prayers sent directly to the center to advise all navigation night ocean tosses me all senses seek drowning succombing to new night perpetual night death my body wants me to acquiesce and offer alive always manifested renewal such body strong tells tells with these words I've nowhere to go and therefore disperse constant re-entry redescribing self some semblance of same dispersal rendered somethin' like purevapor dispersed luminous particles coalesce splitsecond to reform blurself faint smile hair in eyes pale pale...always reconfigured new self seeming one day wandergirl one day always one day faded pale silk dress hung out in air seen from vast distance one day porcelain vase dropped from great height shatters and so on resensing self some days as sensing autosensing and the questions the inquiries which are elicited by these descriptions me wondering at the girls who type out literal seductions and I've no patience for 'em...met a girl one day and felt immediate erotic lust for her...no girl got to me like her and we spoke not at all of sex sent sudden soft kisses to her and she kinda blushed sent back nods and agreements and dreamy restraint of herself so she's still my sweet girl waiting for me perhaps I can't keep track and the days blur with nights where you've connected and connected and connected and there've been moments of wet desire which demanded telephonic convergence where breathy whispers encouraged gorgeous engorgment sometimes release me knowing my first true sexboy will always somehow reign supreme just cuz of the surprise of it just cuz of how naive I was just cuz of his urgency and porn addiction and necessity to seduce and make me crazy wanting him but not his body just his thrust and sensing him always waiting for his re-arrival and then his tease and chase somehow redirecting me into my own lust and culminating one gorgeous night when he simply asked me to tell him what girls like so line by line I instructed and relayed all I could wish any boy might do the utter delicacy and lusciousness and sexfocus I could display for him and all he could do was moan the generic action of moaning "X is moaning because of what you are doing!" and onwards into night us converging in simultaneous wet/hardness knowing and rubbing...

zoneaway