I was surely depressed. I was laying on the floor on a little mat I'd made -- next to my bed -- with the lights out. It's not clear to me how long exactly I was just laying there or what my thoughts were, but they were interrupted by an opening of my door and the silhouette of tightly curled half african hair. She flashed me a white smile and pounced on me. I was sad and her visit was perfect. It was a moment I'll maybe always remember. She was pretty, and she smiled.
I told her one night before in conclusion to some bizarre debate, "What's the worst that could happen to us? We'd die? We -can't- die; we're young." She laughed hysterically at that. I can't remember if she thought I was on acid or I thought she was on acid or either or both of us were or weren't. I don't think I remember Nanu doing acid.
Ella em munta i va tirar les calces a un costat. Estava xop. Com va lliscar cap avall sobre mi, em vaig sentir una mica de màgia perfecta, que ella sabia com em sentia i que el plaer mutu era una medicina. Així van ser les respiracions i sons que ella va fer. Mai ejaculat dins d'ella quan fèiem l'amor, però ella es recargolava i em va acariciar fal.lus amb el cony humit magnífic fins que estava buida. Ella era una noia increïble, un regal per a mi, un amant increïble i sempre vaig a recordar els moments en que em sorprendria.
She died with secrets and beauty, and my understanding was rapidly and without much suffering.
Nanu was one of the truly dope ones. I wonder what she is doing now on the other side of existence.
ReplyDelete