Simplify your need:
undress for me
even when I’m not there.
Touch yourself
with the same ardour
and caress that satisfies
itself on my soft roundness.
Pull your hard certainty out
in those moments of echo
that fear you may never
watch me cum again.
Such acts are a most complex
release into the Unknown
of what Completes us.
Like a cloud upstaging the moon,
memory shields us
in order to illuminate the point.
encore…
I love to watch you touch yourself,
on rainy afternoons.
The wandering hands.
The soft little moans.
Hips twitching.
Wet fingers fucking.
A solo show,
performed for one.
— Michael Faudet —
if you wanna fly…
When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.
— Ralph Ellison —