Musty, rusting shed. Holding, touching, caressing. Just trying to make the hurt, the hurt and the hunger and the pain, all go away. Ripe, juicy blueberries squirting juice throughout mouth, between teeth, coating tongue, as I masticate, stomach is a fire of intensity with this rare sensation of intense taste. Somehow everything seems OK. I donšt smell the rotten stench, or feel the cold, because, well because I am here with my other half. Two becoming one, and him in front of me, behind me, beside and inside me. Radiating his existing warmth, somehow makes life livable.

(go home)