'In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a little dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it and spread, black shadows moved about in them, the roar of the beasts of prey was quite different now, and...
i pick the petals off of my shoulders like scales. stains and glimmers of my past life.
i wonder how many times we kissed -- where that first kiss was and our tentative fingers lacing like netting on my aching aorta beside your bed and how i panicked --
after all, how do you really kiss a guy?
and somehow i (we) did something right after all (but not after afterall).
i wonder how many times you kissed my throat; how many patterns and pleasures you left there and how many kisses i dotted on your cheek -- the corner of your mouth right in that soft dimpling spot.
how many times you dropped a peck on my temple and how often our tongues drew trails on each other's lips and how we explored each other's mouths with tenderness and anger (but always love).
and our last kiss was ambivalent on my mouth, what on yours? when you found me at the hospital and my eyes were ablaze with what, please tell me -- what did you see?
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