The world is bullshit. This and that, the trees, that guy. Eizekef, but bullshit.
It’s in the air, you know. The air I breathe, the things I know. The feelings brewing in my gut.
I want that too, the beliefs he holds…his eyes to see the world. And I would listen to him speak; every syllable, every cuss, every prayer.
And I intoxicate him. The taste, the scent, the sight of me beneath him…I feel powerful. And beautiful. And utterly at home in his tattoed arms and warm chest.
His eyes drive me mad. Oh Lord, what have I done? No man can outmatch his memory now. This night. His hands.
I love him.
I love him for the night, the second, the breaths I heave in surrender. I want him. To own him, have him, take him whole within me that not an inch sets us apart.
His lips, his beard beneath my skin…
Eizekef! Oh, what fun for a night!