Tired.
Thoughts bounce off bones.
My skull feels like fog.
Images pass across my sight.
The memory of sensations rise like waves from my skin.
Everything is so mixed, random, rational does not exist here.
Primitive.
My mind lingers on hardness filling my soft flesh.
Of breath, moans, hands, lips.
Its like sustenance to my soul.
Fog again...
Images of fire.
Heat caresses my skin.
Its cold in here.
Heavy eyes....
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