Saturday, June 6, 2009
What can I glean from one boy to give to another. This is where the richness comes from. A sauce developing it's various flavours from the richness of another element added. Some heat. I am fond of the boy but I am no longer enamoured. I have moved on. I have grown wiser and my child-eyes are open just a little more. It is no longer all black and white. How I have changed in a mere handful of years. I will no longer make love to the child. I need more than the shy interest and a vague scent of sex. Still I need to bring myself to settle into him, the prickle of his edges are an uncomfortable fit. My how my tastes have changed. Years intervene. Life picks me up and carries me. now I am addicted to the underplay, the less obvious traits. The long term intimacy has its own special sexual charge. Still I will disrobe before him. I will show him what it is to be in my thin skin. I will have sex with him but it will not be love now. I am fond. I am physical. This is all there is.