We met through a personal ad, both of us in need of more. More
attention, more conversation,
more cunt, more laughter, more martinis,
more flesh and frolic.
The Cobalt Lounge was waiting for us and the handshake electricity
became our city. It was an urban slap, a long lost friend, a long awaited exhale,
a blatant realization that we have always been.
My little lion, you submissive latex boy, too long have you been searching
for yourself. You are not in the cage, or the club books, you are not in a
certain crowd or the roads of racers,
you, my sweet and nasty one, are in me.
You jumped head first into my veins, but I opened up and caught your flow.
And wandered we did, through a perfect gift, a tragic magic, an ancient kinship.
We are an open wound, full of sweet dreams and sour realities.
(as appeared at cleansheets.com)
copyright 2000 all rights reserved Kim Alvarez
I met Jerome on a busy city street in Baltimore, Maryland, when he was forty-five years old. On that particular day, I was out and about, enjoying a much-needed day off from work.
I wanted to purchase a sukiyaki sub. I parked my car in an area of
Eight e-books regarding Pathological Narcissism, relationships with abusive
narcissists and psychopaths, and the Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).
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