#book 1.

We meet in a bar, pre-planned with the words exchanged before left minimal. The patio is lit by sunset and christmas lights, and we sit in red leopard print chairs as we talk about life, the universe and everything. Conversation, libation flows. Neither one of us dominates the conversation, neither one interrupts. We talk about how tragic, absurd, and beautiful it all is. How everything and nothing matters, and our willingness to revel in that contradiction and chaos. We change settings to a park, where after discussing one's obligation to society vs one's obligation to oneself he tackles me in to the dirt, kissing passionately, woo-hooing teenagers be damned.

We go to his place where he apologizes for it looking like someone lives in it and he tears my clothes off. We soak ourselves in sweat on one of the hottest nights East City's ever seen. He is just as intense, just as VITAL in bed and out, and rough in all the right ways, the ways most lovers I've had who care about equality and social justice are for some reason. His flawless body only highlights the inadequacies of my own but he continuously tells me how beautiful I am and makes me believe it. We worship at the altar of humanity 3 times, body fluids passed as sacrament.

We pillow talk more deep topics before sighing ourselves to sleep in eachothers arms. A while later, I get dressed to use the house's bathroom as the full moon shines in at just the right angle, casting me in a jazz singer's spotlight while highlighting the curves of his body, and everything is beautiful.