By Princess Daisy
Date: 22 October 2000
Fruitless
one
two
three
four
rings
drawn out, fruitless rings, before the answering machine clicks on.
He's not home. Hasn't been all day.
I know this because I've been calling. I want to invite him over.
I want to suggest dinner, and a maybe a couple of quiet vodka's,
and sex.
Of course sex.
Always sex
Long, languid, sweaty, slippery, sex.
Him not being home doesn't quench this desire,
so I pick up the phone again.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Four rings
drawn out, fruitless rings.
Fruitless phoning.
Fruitless fucking.
Fruitless fustration.
Fruitlessly I fuck myself.
Don't come, can't come.
bang my fist on the table! Fruitless!
FUCKINGFruitless!!
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