v u l v a l i c i o u s not one more night 2004-11-10 // 12:08 p.m. She came around my dreams last night. We were lying in bed with sheets and blankets all around us, and we cuddled instead of fucking. I told her: I want you to fuck me, but I know we can't, so let's just lie here instead. It felt good while it lasted, but dreams don't ever stay in one place. I hadn't heard from her in a day or so, and was wondering if I had been too attentive. It's not the case, but it's what I fear. I woke up singing a song about having one more hour with someone. One more daylight hour, a little more time spent with light streaming through the windows, through the sheets, through the morning before we go to get coffee. Seeing her name repeated in my inbox, I feel a little wave of sadness. We've made plans for Sunday, but it seems so far away. I want things with an immediacy that is childish. I want to fall back asleep and into the dream I had of us in the bed together, her arm around me before we fall asleep. back-forth