She lifts her dress up to her knees and walks barefoot to the pool. Those delicate feet. I’ve had them in my mouth. Clean from the shower I tasted the feel of her veins. You can lick anywhere you want. I hate that she said that to anyone else. But I understand. We all want that feeling of touch. That moment of excitement when you feel wanted. So it hurts but I’m not mad. I’m mad at me. But in a way, we’re all mad at ourselves. This one is not the same. It honestly felt there was a god when she came out of the stupid internet. Then she was real. Then she cried because I hurt her. Then she laughed because I’m funny. Then she said I wasn’t funny anymore.
She makes me want to listen to Hank Williams and understand lost highways. I don’t think she knows who Hank Williams is.