tell me about yourself in quiet gasps and moans between kisses. your favourite beatle, your opinion on marxism, ginger or strawberry blonde. i want to assess your reactions, observe your body as it twitches and arches beneath my touches. hello, nice to meet you. did courtney kill kurt? how do you take your tea? i want to take you apart and find the pieces, the whirring clockwork and wires behind crooked smirks and enigmatic stares.
you’re mine, if only for tonight.