To think of you as an action instead of an emotion. Impossible! Or maybe...
There would be Ani DiFranco, there would Camel flavored smoke and an abundance of chocolate. There would be no meat, there would be no boys, and yet...there would be no sex. There might be a sex book, or an independent film about the stereotypical homosexuals, and later that night, there might be a sex oil massage. But our giggles are only light tickles. I’ve seen you nude, but modestly looked away.
In the end, every action with you is an emotion, every moment with you–a nostalgic cue. Because every action comes down to it–I miss you.
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