Thursday, September 18, 2008

The jewelry section

Do you back when you crack? Do you back when you crack? Do you wawawawawawa do you back when you crack sometimes I wonder if there's music in my dreams but there it is, not the most inspiring beats but still do you back when you crack do you back when you crack do you back when you crack it’s department store music and I'm in the jewelry section, or not quite jewelry I'm coming out of the bathroom yes the bathroom that starts pink and girly and then you can go in one of two directions, always a complicated decision I choose the urinals because of what else might happen there, but this time there aren't any urinals just jewelry cases you have to step onto toes to get your dick inside it's soft and comfortable but kind of complicated to piss there without causing a mess although certainly cruisy all these guys at strange angles and then you step outside into back when you crack do you back when you crack, ready to avoid the perfumed areas and this blonde prep with shorts on reaches over and grabs you right on the inside of the thigh oh the confidence the comfort you love the way it's all in the public domain of jewelry cases and cosmetics and hats over there in the distance he's reaching deeper into the middle and you reach over too and then it's like you're floating while walking in a dream this is just called walking but when you wake up you realize when someone grabs your inner thigh and you reach over to grab his it's not quite possible to walk anymore maybe tongue into mouth but that's a different kind of walking. You're still moving forward, legs on ground but slightly lifted see that's the only way the only way is flying, flying with desire but no desire is also that frantic part when you enter the bathroom almost like panic. This is when anything in the world that's difficult or unclear or harsh fades far away and you only feel confidence in freedom.

Like the Nob Hill Theatre, or no not like the Nob Hill Theatre but like the Nob Hill Theatre when it's really working, okay it doesn't start that way -- trust me it doesn't start that way. I walk in and there's no one there, actually there's one guy leaning his head into a booth so that probably means he's watching someone through a glory hole but I have to go to the bathroom and when I get out that guy’s not there anymore. So I mean there's no one in the hall, two guys total in the place, in neighboring booths and one guy’s making a lot of noise oh, oh, OH, so I peer into the crack between door and wall, I see his dick peeking through glory hole, not quite hard the other guy is pulling on the foreskin with his white white hand, what makes hands sexy? I mean I don't find this guy's hand sexy at all, all I can say is it's pale and very moisturized but I'm not averse to pale or moisture. I look at my own hands -- not so sexy either or okay I like them from the palm but not the other side too much visible through skin.

Maybe hands are just sexy when they're touching you, I mean if they're touching you right. I guess that's why that guy is moaning so much, although he's only a sound exhibitionist because this door is locked. Anyway, then I'm in the next booth over, sliding in the dollar for the machine so that the window will clear and I can get a closer look at what's going on. Except then it doesn't clear, it stays white and even when I get on my knees I'm looking at the shadow of my face in the glass.


Oli said...

I think hands are sexy in their competence, or the promise of their competence. Yes there's aesthetics to it but for me I think that's the underlying reason I even care about looking at them/how they look. Also I just sent you my zine (which, yknow, has a doodle I did of a fist on the cover, oh my.)

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Yes yes the promise... and I look forward to the zine, and the fist on the cover...

Love --