I have never been attentive, nor have I been interested in class.

Nonetheless I remember, that the furthest distance between two points on a circle circle has always been that of two opposites.

So as you take a step forward, walking down those streets, I too, would take a step forward, walking by the windows where the smells and laughters, too, float out. That way, we can keep our distance.

Here I am in New Zealand, the furthest point away, from you, sipping my Smirnoffs, breezers, chugging mugs after mugs, lighting sticks, after sticks.

And it seems. That it is working.

there was once a ferris wheel of love in my room

at the brink of death of each and every night
we would hitch a ride to the stars
pretending to love
without
the problems and consequences of love
till the wheel comes down
till the morning comes down
to break our hearts
and we said goodbye with a smile
with a smile

you don't care if someone else was on my bed last night
you only have an empty space to fill
in between each breath you take
in between your skin and your flesh
in between your legs you spread so wide for me
but an empty space that I could never fill
never

I said I don't care
but I do
each night on the ferris wheel
and so I hear Joni Mitchell say,
if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

and so we are just making love
and every touch I make, every kiss I give
I don't give myself away
I don't give myself away to you
it's a game we play
that ends in the morning with a goodbye
and a smile

there was once a ferris wheel of love in my room
rolling, spinning, dizzy

There's nothing more fanatic than the unbridled love of a fourteen year old.

I thought nothing would come close. Nothing should. After all, I still love her, that fourteen year old.



A fever a desperate religion and all that she can say is

give me just a little bit
gimme just a little bit

a train that never stops rolling it's getting into your blood
a need that never stops growing she's a poisonous one
a hope for better days but nothing seems to fix it
you're wasting away
indeed a desperate religion
and all that she will say is

give me just a little bit
gimme just a little bit

a desperate addiction
a familiar affliction
denying won't fix it
this desperate religion

give me just a little bit
gimme just a little bit

Remember,


it’s the beautiful ones I don’t know, I’ve never slept with, that know my secrets.





And I love you too, my beautiful reader.

It was two in the morning.

You heard the plane in its movement. You tried holding him, but he was gone.


You gazed at the stars, and the dark spaces of heaven.

You contemplated the gods themselves. Above. The milky way of lights. Packed full. Crowded.

So many secrets.

You contemplated the gods themselves. Above. The distance between each light. Scattered afar. Vastness.

So much loneliness.


"I cry with my smiles," he would have said to you. "I dream in a jungle of pain and agony. I can't breathe. There's nothing to breathe. And I can't live. There's nothing to live."

He wanted to make you happy, and so he gave you his smile. A solar smile of painful brightness.



"I cry with my smiles."

The night light shone through her sheer pajamas. She began unbuttoning her top. "Dreams are meant for dreaming. Dreams are meant for desires." She let slip her bottom. And she climbed onto the bed towards me.

I called her name again, and again, like I always do in the house. And she took off my shirt, and pulled off my pants, and uncovered my snake, hissing.

"It's okay," I told her, "it doesn't bite."

My snake was flickering his tongue, tasting the air; and he slithered his way to her body, tasting her smooth skin, tasting her milky white thighs, drinking up her pussy with his slippery forked tongue.

I laid on top of her and whispered, "Relax. It won't hurt." The snake probed part of his head in at the entrance of her warm channel, tasting the water of her fear and excitement, teasing her, making her wetter. And then, he snaked long and deep into the dark river.

She opened her eyes wide, and shuddered. "It feels weird. Like something cold worming inside me."

"Wait a while and the rhythm will come to you. Like the cold waves of the sea. Wave after wave."

She arched her back and shuddered again. She closed her eyes tight. And her face was a face of agony. The little earthquakes. The unbearable quiverings. The uncontrollable tremblings.

The snake slid in and penetrated her inner soul, licking and stirring up all memories, all secrets, and all her hidden passions. The snake wriggled and wiggled and jiggled in the tightness. And her face soon became a face of pleasurable agony. The loud moanings. The horny cries. The slutty squirmings. And she moved to the rhythms of my fucks. Urging me to go faster, and faster.

The cold waves never arrived. It was the heat instead, notching up the temperature bit by bit. We were panting and perspiring, and the bed was creaking. The slapping sound of bodies in contact. The lusty sight of bodies in motion. The quickening. The quickening. And the quickening of my snake!

Finally it was I who could go on no longer, pulling out from her and collapsing at the side. My snake, almost wasted, immediately coiled up and went back to sleep without a hiss.

Both of us just laid there without words for several minutes. She took the remote and set the air conditioner to 16 degrees celsius. Still, the clock thermometer showed 31.

"None of us have woken up yet," she said, "we are still here in this dream."

"Yeah," I said.