“sext: I am so fucking hungry for your attention. I am starving for your eyes. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me. (I’m here.)
sext: I am searching for a place to call home. Can it be you?
sext: Could you love me enough to write about me forever?
sext: You can write similes about my thighs and I can write metaphors about your spine. I swear I’m not a creep.
sext: I’d like to cry for better things this year.
sext: We sound so good on paper. Wanna test it out?
sext: They have left. The lights no longer blind us yet we burn alone, still. Spit her on the gavel stone and I’ll bleed him on the snow. We can douse ourselves in gasoline and peel the sunburn off each other’s back.
sext: You sound like someone I could fall in love with. Let’s break together.
sext: I want to freestyle dive headfirst into the moonpools of your eyes. I don’t know how to swim, but who the fuck cares? I dare you. Make music out of me.
sext: Wanna embarrass ourselves in front of our friends?
sext: The tender way you touch things could dismantle the fucking sun.
sext: Kiss me until it no longer hurts. Until the only flavor we have left is each other’s last name, stuck behind your teeth.
sext: I am the flavor of the sky burning. Can you taste me?”—