Travis Edward:  

nesty. Honestly, you gotta be wanting the drama to even start this with me. weaving through and fingering the realness with immunity. I enter at my own risk knowing it isn't brightest idea but desire overrides all of the thoughts and the hot of your drawing unlocks me. You are just hands and knowing this neither harms nor warms me bears terrible precious little significance in this particular instance. You are the leaf, flipped around the windshield wiper of my existence and I, I am accelerating. you wrap over ever harder wiggling in the wind holding on for dear life. You are just hands, you are the ten thousand things on every inch of me and i am thinking, about each of you. I am feeding back rattling your amp impossibly, my body responds automatic, unconsciously; when the hot of your drawing unlocks me; and the plot of this haunting will stop me. when the hot of your drawing unlocks me. The wonder reclines what mocks me leaving me responsible for a constant opening unfolding of urgency. Lay myself down on the alter, play my part in the legacy, I am mute, I am chemical i am concentric circles looping through each other. little deaths in both directions I am silently rising in spite of myself, I am a first prize science project, I am the picture of health I am stimulus and response on display, I am as natural as the day is long as predictable as kittens right as rain and sunrise, overcome by pleasure delectable edging unbearable tear at your own hair, forget to exhale. You are just hands and knowing this neither harms nor warms me bears terrible precious little significance in this particular instance, YOU are the leaf flipped around the windshield wiper of my existence and I, I am accelerating."".