"I love you, Rose, but sometimes you aren't lovable."Another coat of suspect lipstick, I rub my lips together and think ofkissing Jay goodbye this mor...ing. It felt, cold - pained. I don't knowwhy, or what to do about it. I should talk, but the orgasm-that-wasn'thangs between us (in my head at least). Maybe Jay's work is just shitterthan usual.It may be because Jay wears lipstick routinely now and kissing feelsdifferent - stickier. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to wear lipstick atall; people I. The drink pauses the treacherous grind, and when this sublime relaxation sets in, the man finds a kernel of truth within the mountains of desperate lies. At this point precisely a special relationship is formed with that particular glass of beer. Ah, the texture of it. Cold and penetrating, so penetrating that the man glances into his own soul and discovers through the joy of inebriation the purity of it. With each sip, leading to voracious gulps, the alcohol removes the man from the hard. More

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