I feel this heat...visceral,sexual..."Ho fame ragazzi,ti giuro"...Can't rid myself of certain...urges...He's out there, I can feel it...worn slacks,pull over jacket, cookie cutter car and life...no one you would notice..."Ma la voglia, la voglia e piu grande di me"...we haven't really connected in months, but in these weeks he has woven himself into my dreams...square jaw, soft lips..."forse sogno di lui perche ci siamo incontrati un anno fa"...maybe it is the smell of fall as it dies into winter, he smells like that in my memory...light beer and dark cordials...he smells of not remembering...

There was an ice storm here last year...the dirty city closed down under a clean blanket of white-and stood still. I curled up at home, emptied bottles of red wine and listened for him in the music and the melting snow...a whisper.

I knew then as I do now, the feelings were one sided.

I was to him a girl sometimes a woman...a liberal, a comedian, a jew...a traveler,a loudmouth,a bartender...many an archetype, stererotype...but hardly anything special...

he enjoyed the beer, the banter-but nothing special...I would be, like all other women to a him, a port in the storm and a notch in his belt...

but I still want him...wish I had the guts to indulge in him, just once...

His office is near where I live now...I could slip in during lunch under the cool veil of winter-and end it...one taste would, I assume, transform him from object obsession to a man like any other-with hairy places and odd smells...nothing new or undiscovered...nothing I haven't had before...

morality is a curse and monogamy is wrath