teeth

Reg­u­lar Programming?

Sigh. I miss writ­ing.

I used to be good at it, really I did. Writ­ing used to be an escape into a warm, emo­tional womb that recharged me and made me a bet­ter man. And now, even writ­ing these para­graphs feels like pulling teeth.

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Bit­ing and Slap­ping and Tug­ging and Pinching

I need to des­per­ately soak all my senses with her, to get so close to her that I miss not a sin­gle breath of hers or a sin­gle heartbeat.

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Again and Again

The sound of your com­ing is the sound I cher­ish the most.

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