Tickle My Pickle

Stuff that tickles my pickle. And yes, I have a pickle... Um, it's in my fridge.

Yes, I have been inside you. Lost in your velvet walls, swallowed by the molten lava of that mouth.

Longing. 
Craving. 


And in that instant I remembered I wasn’t just a combination of empty molecules, or cold stone and idle musings that I half convince myself are worth (half) my time . I was real. And unabashedly reckless. A fool. I became something of importance to you that would fill your thoughts until someone else would come along and take my place among thestars.. 

And we danced, and laughed and talked about all those little things usually reserved for a New York times bestseller. A rom com; the music of the spheres. I tried to look for your flaws while you examined mine, or picture the impossibility of togetherness til the end of time…

I watch too many movies… 


And then it hit me. 
Love is so old fashioned 
and I’m to hoplessly in love with the idea 
that 
maybe 
you’d 
be 
less 


cautious

 
and moreunequivocal. 

Its 10:16 pm, on a tuesday evening, and I’m immortalizing you with words

my 
lips
could 
never 
say

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