“You’re An Asshole,” he said while looking in the mirror.

I often wonder what the hell is the matter with me.  Floating through girls as if they were water.  Needing to feel their wet lips against my dry mouth and once my thirst is quenched I’m on my way.  Water is wet and there is a ton of it out there, and so the asshole goes.

Pretty girls with pretty smiles all falling in on their own.  Goofy charm notwithstanding.

It isn’t an aim to pierce their heart.  To take my words and kiss them down each woman’s thighs until she wraps her legs around my neck.  If only she knew where we’d be in a few days, weeks or months.  She might be keen snap it.
I think I linger too long above her heart though.  Again, not intentional.  It’s just where my magnet is pulled.

Now the mirror is talking back to me.  Calling me names and I’m trying to reason with it.

“It was there.  I don’t know what happened,” as if I lost a pass to the parking garage and now have to pay the full day’s rate.

The other me in the mirror isn’t having any of it.
You can’t lie to yourself, no matter how long you’d like to believe.

I wonder if it’s just the way I am, never satisfied, and if that is something I can ever get over.  Is it possible to comprehend a way that you aren’t?  I haven’t been able to find it yet.

So these girls, they come.  They come and they don’t intend to stay but it’s got a nice smell.  The couch is comfortable.  The company is pleasant.  Then a thing or two triggers a smile.  That smile turns into a kiss and that kiss has their body grinding layers of skin against each other.  Funny how that happens.
Its heated.  The flame is hot.  Sometimes red, sometimes orange.  And I don’t know if I know why it goes away or not.  It’s often a little thing that makes me think and wonder.  It puts doubt in my head and doubt is a terrible infestation to invade your mind.  The entire structure can come crashing down.

Then she’ll be gone.  It’s probably for the best.  Better to love hard and fast then drag out something that was never going to last anyway.  But then I think to that girl.  The one who is still there just out of my reach.  Who I thought would never come back and did.  Not in a way with her thighs around my neck, but we’ve shared smiles.
She’s never waned, not once.  I wonder about that though.  Is it because I’m always chasing her?  If I caught her would it be just the same?  I’d like to think not but constantly questioning is the name of the game.  Who wants to know anything for sure anyway?

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