a good beginning to fall break

Andrew spent the night, the morning with me.Spent is such a fascinating word, conjuring exchange value, costs, buying and selling, cost-benefit analysis graphs drawn on chalkboards by Richard Coe. We spent the night together, using it to buy things just as vague as the night. Throwing our dollars into the air, recklessly giving our night to greedy merchants and open cash registers. Spending it together, spending it for the common good, for ours. Take it, take the night. Spend spend spend.

Looking up from Andrew's dick, licking his thighs because I was starting to gag, because I needed to take a break, because no one wants vomit on their cock, I saw his chest, the hairs around his nipples. A streetlamp somewhere, the faint light of it interrupted by parralel even strips of shadows on his chest, the Venetian blinds, the wooden ones that came with the house allowing all of this, allowing me to see the fragility of each of us in the intermittent lighting and shading of a sex partner's body.

Throughout the night, I woke up for brief moments to gaze upon Andrew's body some more, to curiously touch it, poking it lightly with a finger, a science experiment, and the hypotheses were right. So fucking right, and so knowing this, that everything is lovely, that I am alive, whatever that means, just take it for what is, alive -I would fall back into the most comfortable sleep curling up tighter against Andrew, making more contact, pressing warm skin against warm skin, alive people living.