Boyfriend (02)

Hey ---

You teased me about ass-fucking. So I let you. Laugh at me, go on. It's just a thing ok. I let you. You were my teacher. This is what I remember. I let you do it without a condom. That was fucking stupid. So we stopped. At least for that moment. You suggested cutting. Here's a razor. Oh that old story. Scars all over your arms to prove it. You hated yourself. You were on crystal meth. You were a raver. Still so much younger. Hated your parents. Said you'd kill yourself back in Edmonton, Canada, if life didn't sort itself out. "You won't hear from me again." Are these some kind of last words? You wanted to play rough. You've got the cuts to prove it. Couldn't keep a hard-on without a cock-ring. Something in your blood. Stops the circulation. Our brief moments of immense danger. I let you beat me up. Who is the weak one? I ask for it. The hits and blows. I asked for it. I ironed your shirts to keep you on the waiting staff but I kept you up all night and that got you the sack. You brought me jugs of coke and stuff. You flirted with me on the job. Fuck that turned me on. You said we'd be singing that Rufus Wainwright song on a bridge together in 20 years. Apparently we were destined to meet again. You phoned me in Los Angeles crying. I couldn't save you. You sounded so distant. Waiting for life to sort itself out. We were going our separate ways. I couldn't track you down. Somehow, I lost you.

Still, some love.

JASON