i didn’t write it down when i woke up. i knew i wouldn’t soon forget.it didn’t have any real shock or glam veneer, it said just enough to remind me of what i already knew. i turn over to try to return to sleep wondering if i’ll see you again , if we’ll talk about the difference again, yet honestly the last visit was so sterile and motionless that i was sure you were coming to tell me you died. i will not call and i will not write, well not directly but i will think and i will find a place for all this. soon i will but i’m up now and evil mickey’s up too and i might as well do something about that. i like to please myself on merit of imagination alone. i like the idea of a complete sexuality a mixture of skin texture and pheremone, add a cerebral prowess and firm structure. i think back to the age 15 when i would leave art class early every saturday and venture down into the city, eyes and nose wide open . i could get so excited knowing what i knew about the city , everything was for sell there evrything on the streets and in the stores, in the clubs and in those small dingy building that so proudly proclaimed live nudes or girls girls girls. no parent could hide these places from any child that could read and i started early. i would go to these place and sit waiting for a disturbance someone to say get outta here kid but the never did. maybe i was tall for my age. maybe i was a beauty, more than likely i had money and money talks especially to the middle age women that would take me to the back rooms of those massage parlors and work it from me cooing about how they could ride that all day. telling me and staring at me pulling at me 45 dollars would evaporate and i would always want more. but thats another secret i have something i inherited my absolute need isn’t mine as much as mickeys and i guess i’ll have to live with it. i will live inside of it. i clench that spot and move to the rooms where there were screens. i was the boss here daddy with a timer and a token , the first was to see if i wanted to stay i would stand there with my dreads at my nipples staring into the room watching the women or girl stare back . she would try to talk to me, but me all stare, all defiant staring, sometimes smiling , always knowing that if she did right i would stay if not i would go , i imagine my stare a leash a rope tied around here neck pressing where it should firm in my hand a rope throbbing and standing like a rope dipped in heavy glue thick with a pulse i would stand there in that filth with the stained screen the sticky floor the men staring at me and my tight ass trying to get me to go into a room with them . trying to get a glimpse at me like at the clubs where still i could stay and be ushered to the mens room and stared at looked at sneered at wanted and i would smile and hop away like a cartoon gazelle all colorful and ablaze . i would never get mad except for when i would allow someone to cover my cock with their mouth i would get mad because they would try to own me and i don’t even own me for the most part, i share me with the parts of me i share with you . yet they would try and try . they would try in the theatre when the film was straight and i was taking notes the olde films where the orgies made me long and thicke and new over and over again. the lessons interrupted by a hand that i would allow then get up abruptly and leave. people like me are aggressive but never so much as when fleeing. all these thoughts of a youth spent wondering about what normal people do. when normal people find out they like a little pain that they like to please and that they will always love to be worshiped that the peak is when your lover offers themselves up to you and while impaled on your greatest length you pierce them flesh and soul they give that nipple to you and you take their signature in blood and eyelash. i think all this without touching anything . its a riot inside my body that i have to save for the next time i lay lash to ass.