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Talk Dirty

I string words like beads
onto threads of ideas
and tie them to
the tip of my tongue.
I want to pull them out
one by one,
drop them in your ear
when your lips
are pressed against
the soft spot
on my neck
that makes me sigh,

but there is a moment
between the rise and fall
of our bodies
when flesh becomes a
boundary to be broken
and desire ceases
to be ethereal
and words feel plastic
and small and clumsy 
and break against my teeth.

Well, That Could Have Gone Better

Last night did not go the way I planned, and ended instead with me irritated at the raid and my husband irritated with me. 

Instead of doing Spine and Madness and calling it there, we went to Firelands first to help a bunch of other people get staff steps completed. Ihate Firelands. I’ll be detailing that more in my blog later, but suffice to say it’s not a casual dislike. I hate it.

If right now Blizzard announced that somehow an Old God had dropped a nuke on that place, I would never attack another tentacle again.

My husband really wanted me to spend time with him last night, and I thought it wouldn’t be a problem since it was a short raid. Because we spent an extra hour in Firelands, he was upset, and I felt terrible for upsetting him.

I logged off the minute the raid was over and went to bed. I feel better this morning; still irked, but not murderous. 

I need some coffee.

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