Shedding Skin

Last work outing I went to with the boy, there was a very attractive Asian woman, a coworker of his who he addressed familiarly, with her diminutive douchebag looking boyfriend. Seeing him, easily a foot taller than her and her “man”… he was looking at her. And I could tell that he knew, or at least he thought he knew, that he could have her if he wanted her, if he hadn’t had her already.

Bubb’s BBQ

I remember looking at my ex, eating ribs with his hands, and thinking about how hot he was. The way his collarbones flex when he swallows. The skin at the base of his neck, like porcelain, or more accurately, the surface of a perfectly still puddle of milk. Opaque, but yet the eye can see the depth. Then he swallows, then it moves. So beautiful, skin like a living cotton sheet. I love sleeping there. The boy is the same, at that one spot… and I took the whole man because of that. Beyond that, they are not the same at all. And beyond that, let’s be honest, I don’t really like either of them.