Monday, October 22, 2007

What about when the eyes open wide with excitement

I'm waiting for the bus, this guy stares right at me he's checking out my fashion I look for his eyes and he's already past, I mean I catch his eyes for a moment cute face head shaved bald slightly bougie black clothing and then he's passed, I'm looking at his back to see if his back sees me no to see if he'll turn around. No one ever turns around any more, that's what you do online, hurting your neck again. I’m always horniest outside, so many different kinds of guys who upstairs I wouldn't even imagine. That's what's lovely about the street, the possibility for interaction, where is the possibility I'm looking for possibility.

But also I'm wondering about the difference between cruising someone's look and cruising. I mean I'm wondering about me -- I almost always I assume they’re clocking the fashion, studying the hair, taking it all in, attempting to figure it out, making notes for the folks back home. Often there’s disdain -- that's not cruising or at least not the cruising I'm looking for. But what about when the eyes open wide with excitement -- is that an appreciation of color and contrast, texture and pattern, or the possibility of our lips interlocked? I don't know if I'll ever figure it out.

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