playtime

You called me pretty,
so I sent you pictures of my body.

Watching you get off to me,
makes me feel like the hottest bitch in the room.

It’s fun playing with you,
but it’s not enough.

I crave the real thing,
not a digitization via LCD.

I need a partner.

Someone to share
a laugh,
a cry,
a meal,
a weekend getaway,
(a bed),
in short—a life.

So I’ll keep making myself pretty,
in the hopes that one day I’ll meet her.

But until then,
I’d like to keep playing with you.