Truth in lyrics

Love
love is an angel that smokes cigarettes
she's trying to kill me
I can only say yes
take me to your bedroom, send me to my death
you can't help being what you are

Can you be attracted to someone who's face you've never seen? Lust for someone who's words are enough? Long to touch someone who lives hundreds of miles away?

It's a new sweet form of torment.

Unexpected

My lover is out of town this weekend. Not even one little e-mail has followed him home. I sent him a series of instructions for our next meeting, each accompanied with a photo such as a twist of hair, lips wrapped around my finger, the inside of a thigh -- all culminating in a final, very graphic, very wet picture of promise.

I was expecting four or five days of no flirtation. Well, maybe the occassional smile and shy hello with that married guy I run into at the grocery store. Our shopping habits are oddly in sync.

My low expectations were pleasantly aroused with an e-mail from someone new.

It's interesting how quickly fuckery can progress. What started as a friendly hello and appreciation for my storytelling has quickly devolved into erotic repertoire about fantasies, hot wax and remote-controlled vibrators cleverly used at a dinner party.

I've lamented my brown-eyed Irish boy's lack of e-mail flirtation, so to find someone who likes to arouse with words has revived my interest in the delicate art of e-sex. I hope it's the start of something somewhat lasting. It would be a dream to have a lover online, and one in person. It's too bad my new friend lives so far away, otherwise we would try out some of those hot wax and champagne fantasies very soon.

I'm such a greedy little cunt.