❤️🩹 The only thing worse than having sex with your ex is having zoom sex with your ex 😫
I beg you not to speak to me at that temperature 🥵
Larissa’s response to unexpected events and Kelly’s piece from THIS week, i'm not crying, you're crying
❤️🩹 The only thing worse than having sex with your ex is having zoom sex with your ex 😫
Because the only good things in life are Anticipation and sweeting garlic Sauce as well as The wish for opposites To distract. We all have a little Larceny inside of us so Shut your mouth when talking to me but Tell my body you’ve missed me with your Glitches. If lying is the most fun a girl can have without Talking him out of his clothes then Strip me naked as the Tarpaulin and ground me For a month. Heels go up as the economy goes Face down I don’t dream Of labor I dream of rebuilt houses and yellow Wallpaper as thin as My will to live. If life is not a movie then why Act like are we Noah Baumbaching? Never learning to love that gap between desire (impassioned) And outcome. No debate could prepare me for The streaked staring contest Cumming across your cheeks Like the infamous single Tit tear. Nothing ado about Nothing we’ve said except wait For the economic inflation Of ego to just drop it so there are snacks For all involved. Fire walk with me across all Our burnt bridges but As the world puffs and swallows One another again I beg you not to speak To me at that temperature.
hey all you hot singles in our area! surprised by this sexy Friday email? Are you in the weekend mood? Are you still in love with your ex or are you like TOTALLY over them? tell us in the comments…..please, it will make me feel better (or worse!)
xoxo L
Since you asked.
Can you be more over them than staring love in the face and
telling it to go
fuck itself
behind the walls of Vejer de la Frontera
Friday night is windswept and the electrical circuits of our AirBnB blowout
but no one will have sex behind closed doors to warm up tonight
even though he shaved
and complemented my wrists and
the stack of green emerald rings
because I already know I have beautiful hands
and my heart
makes love with the Eleven Stars over Andalusia
to larissa
i get so full of god that they tell me i'm ill again but
please keep sending me photos of your ass
you're gonna make me the sickest of all time
your content props up my aching dead divinity
you have goodbye tattooed on your knees
i farewell and push you around in my
crisp-grounded-sweet-malice you probably
wanna fuck camus so let me fuck a little of him into you
'we need to be brave enough to imagine sisyphus smiling'
my mouth is watering grin, chops spit licked, forget pushing
lithium up that hill send me another photo so i have one more
reason to live so that i can die, smiling