Tuesday, May 11

i'm pretending nobody will ever read this. from here on out.

and the pressures gone.
what do i want to write about? what do i really want to write about?

i want to ride an elephant.
i told him, he understood.

can you imagine how amazing it would be?
to even be near an elephant. to touch it. i've been fascinated with them since i was a little girl.
to feel its rough skin. dry, most likely. or at least thats how i imagine it to be.
to feel its heart beating. thmp. thmp thmp. thmp thmp. thmp thmp.
to feel the movement of its body as each breath passes through the lungs.
to rest my cheek against its body and close my eyes.

what do you think elephant skin feels like? he asks

i imagine it feels loose.
dry, rough.
like my own skin, painted in dry mud.
i might be wrong but i wouldn't mind. i like that idea best.

hes perfect.
i think hes perfect.

we talk for hours and hours.
as we drive.
on my porch.
on the phone.
at our spot.
i never lose interest.
i never get tired of him.

maybe i wanted to write about him also.


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