He's better than if I coulda imagined him
he's all sly smiles and "hey big eyes
how's it going with your big eyes...
andya coconut face
buttermilk skin" an' all that kinda thing
rough but gentle
best ways
no bullshit
but talks such beautiful shit, spinning yarns like some hilarious spider cunt
taking me in his scarred arms and playing with my hair
calling when I'm not there
and it's love, terrifying, suddenly love
says he'll buy me a gun and we can drink whiskey and shoot things together
and that's what I find myself wanting constantly; to be together with him
even just doing fuck all
cos he does it so well, practised at it like me but more styled out, effortless
he isn't more or less of a trashbag than me either.
it's uncanny the things he says, the things I think, like them-two-grew-up-together
it's rough and tuff and tender
and his voice is all caramelcigaretteboozy
makes my head dizzy, makes my tummy woozy
an' i hafta find a way not to let on just how much he moves me, cos my eyes gimme away "hey big eyes, why's there water comin' outta ya big eyes?"



total makings of a self immolating alpha couple...here's hoping...