Dear Diary,

I don't have it figured out. 

I am immature. I like the heaviness 

of my boobs. I still shy at the term

tits. I'd like to feel another woman's 

tits. I'd like to compare. I'd like, 

I want to lie side-by-side naked

with a woman and laugh and 

say "look, you look like me" Discover 

ourself in each other's form for the 

first time. 

When I walk, I look at my 

surroundings, am drunk by my 

surroundings. Walking with is the 

most intimate encounter. We do not

promenade. We walk. Discover, race, 

share. 

Though stillwater flies'

droning chorus goldens each pitstop

succulently, we move. We brush, 

we press, we flex flesh, we break and 

grasp and clutch and gasp. we swollwe

yollwe yum we young yum we 

barrel and we bone and we elbow 

punt bold apart no stones thrown and

we punch space between we glom we

unhooked unarm.