Lost souls dont end up in asphodel meadows, honey — they end up in your apartment; a messy, poorly-lit place. or so i did. our systems filled with alcohol and other bad ideas i will for sure regret. well, truth be told, you are mine to regret. well truth be told, you are not. but there we were, flung in a den of frenzied kisses — skin next to a black hole, a black hole next to a skin guess we will never know which is who. but tonight break me — we both know this is not our watching-sunset-and-gazing-at-stars type of love. so tonight stain me, and i willll call it a pseudo-romance, darling and maybe after, we can smoke cigarettes or watch the city fall asleep or stare at each others empty eyes; maybe somehow thats more of our style darling, than staring at the sunrise is.

My Ideal Person Someone who enjoys a long foreplay session. Knows how to flirt and tease. Confident yet down to earth.