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31.12.03 | 23:12
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there's a tiny cut in the right corner of my lips. i can feel the sting as i lick the corner of my mouth. i'm driving down the 5 fwy S, in traffic of course...just leaving L.A....and i'm thinking of cherries. not the kind that grows on trees, that you pick and eat out of a bowl. put your mind in the gutter here. i can't take the credit for this nasty thought though. it was likely inspired by the billboard advertising a showgirls venue of the same name. the word 'cherries' rolls out in rich, red script, over a semi-nude blonde. her back is arched and that's all we can see except for the way her legs are spread-eagled behind her, showing us the slip of red-trimmed, white satin shielding her otherwise exposed crotch. i have a vague wish that her ass were larger and more shapely and then my gaze is lost in the sea of red lights before me. when i get home i dream of red. the fullness and vibrance of the color flowing across a smooth pale surface, a molten run of wetness. the way it glimmers and gains dimension as the light plays over it. my dreams are washed in red.
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