If We’re Dating And You See Me Lying Down On My Bed, You’re 100% Allowed To Just Lay Down On Top

When I say that you bring out the best in me, I mean it. You bring out the softness I was too scared to let anyone see. You inspire me to work hard and achieve great things. You make me want to take better care of myself because now I have someone I want to shine for. You really, truly bring out the best in me.

Recently, I’ve heard a story about two men. They are friends, bonded, with a natural want to be close to one another. Who can say what they might have done privately? While they were in the view of others, however, they took care to keep apart. So far apart, in fact, that in one look strangers saw through their facade, and mocked them for their empty performance. By worrying about appearances, they drew more attention to themselves than they ever would have gotten if they had simply acted out of their wants and desires. Their created charade of apathy only made their intimacy more apparent. Tell me, Will. Are you going to keep sitting on the other side of the hot tub, or will you come sit next to me?

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i.

the first time i met you, i couldn’t pronounce your name when you introduced yourself. my tongue stumbled over your name as if it became drunk off its syllables alone, to my embarrassment and your annoyance. tongues are a tricky thing— they are kind enough to hide everything you aren’t brave enough to say but cruel enough to make you taste the bitterness of your secrets. i wonder if you still taste her. i wonder if her name tastes like sun or vodka burning on its way down or the cold side of the bed or the things you never said to her or the love you used to share. i hope you spit out the taste of her name when you left her. because i’ve stopped sharing room with other women in the roofs of people’s mouths years ago. it took me a lot of blood and even more tears to teach myself i am too large to share a mouth with someone else— the taste of my name is made of cayenne pepper and tumeric and honey that stings, too potent to mix with someone else. i, too, have the sort of name tongues get drunk on. you do not see that we are the same yet.

ii.

if i had the chance, i’d swallow you. i’d devour the lies you tell yourself and digest the truths you’re courageous enough to admit, i’d take you straight and i’d let you burn on the way down like my throat was born to sting. i wouldn’t hesitate. but i am so frightened that if i dared taste you, it would be her aftertaste that would remain, or if i tried to describe your flavor i’d say her name instead. i can’t kiss with tongue if your mouth is still drunk off the very syllables of her name. because while i’ve learned to say your name correctly, my stomach craves to pronounce it, too. my teeth are sweetened by the very sight of you.

— tongues hold so much more than names (ap 12.21.18)

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@ hobiwords.

Hrghhh hannibal cartoon

tells us your secrets, we like to listen.

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