“I feel like someone after a deluge being asked to describe the way it was before the flood while I’m still plucking seaweed out of my hair.” – Norman Rush, Mating
By Kristamas Klousch
timeless
black and white
Is that true? Because the tiny romantic that lives at the bottom of my sexuality just squealed if it is.
They didn’t know each other.
Dacry’s just the meanest.
Ivy whines too much. I can’t think over the sound of Ivy whining. Luckily, I have a solution.
Forever and ever, amen.
Oh, Dacry, I need to stop telling you things when you have tumblr open. So, hush, or I’m not coming to your playdate. And you’ll be sad.
My girl Ivy tells me she wants a glass of wine and someone eating her out.
I’m willing to volunteer, on the condition that she goes to the liquor store and asks them what wine goes well with pussy.
She assures me this will make her wonderfully blushy. I’m all for it.
“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.” D.H. Lawrence, Self Pity.
But my other side is marked with “SAINT.” Darkness & light coexist in all of us.
It’s crazy how the other options don’t even cross my mind.
The fact stands that I don’t have to kneel. I don’t have to follow the routines, the orders, the reminders. I don’t have to abstain when I’m told and I don’t have to indulge when I’m told, either. I don’t have to reach the standard that is expected. There’s room for slippage and for coming up short.
But that never occurs to me until it’s pointed out later. And, by that point, I don’t want to think about the other options at all.
Peek-a-boo.
I don’t have the right attributes to be able to pull off the androgynous look, so I mostly just have to admire from afar while other ladies rock it. And she is definitely rocking it.