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I have posted a new piece on my other blog, Fur/Sweat/Flesh.

In case you don’t know, that site is where I compile true sex stories of mine, and the essays I write there are highly graphic. However, they aren’t pornographic–the point of the blog and the stories is to tease out something about the way humans relate to sex in a redeeming and haunting way.

The piece is called “No Regrets.” Again, it contains highly erotic language and graphic descriptions, so it may not be for everyone.

The link is here (no password required).


The Shit-Smeared Face

October 16, 2017 — 5 Comments

What has become of American social justice is a bourgeois jerk-fest while people too poor to use twitter die from the only thing the “enlightened” refuse to confront.

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July 24, 2017 — Leave a comment

We unwrite ourself

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The sun had begun to slant early autumn light on your face, and in that illumination, gold and rose, I saw you the first time.

I mean really saw you, unlike every other glance before when you spoke and I thought I heard but hadn’t, that late afternoon before you had to leave and I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.

The sun had begun to slant, showing me things I had never seen about you, things I never knew lay behind your eyes, behind your awkward laugh when I told you I thought you were beautiful all those other times before.

That’s why you were laughing all those times before, because you knew I had not really yet seen you, was only uttering words I knew I was supposed to say, the sounds a man makes when he knows he’s supposed to see something but isn’t sure he did.

You were laughing because you knew I hadn’t seen you yet.

And now I understand why, when you left just after the trees swallowed that last bit of light (just before everything went so very crimson and so very rose) your laughed changed.

I felt it, not so awkward, like you’d caught something in the light too when I said you were beautiful.

You laughed and looked at me, turning your face so I could see. That’s when I saw it, what I had never seen before behind your eyes, something for which the word beautiful was just man-noise.

Which is why you were always laughing before. And I said it anyway, and you laughed but it changed, and you stared at me like you saw something there too.

And then I said I love you, and then you did too.
And then I understood why you were always laughing.
And I think you understood why I always said you were beautiful.

And then you left, stood up as the trees swallowed the sun.
And then you left, and I did not know if I would ever see you again.

And then you left, and I held on to this love letter, written before we ever met, written now, remembering a future which will one day be a past in which I have always known you.

I still do not know if I will ever see you again, because I have not yet even seen you yet.

But I think I will, because I have this letter written before we ever met.

And if I do, I will show it to you.

See? I’ll say.

I told you I have always known you.

I have to find a new magic because it is telling me to find it, because I hear the thunder of running feet…

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