shes the only one who talks to me

and i only like to talk in hottubs.

she said i know you have a secret blog and im hurt that you wont tell me where it is.

i said baby trust me if i had a secret blog youd be the first to know about it.

she said but wouldnt you have a blog so you could write freely about all the other girls

i was all sweet miracle from Above, not only arent there any other girls, but if there were why wouldnt i just write To them instead of in secret About them.

the record player made it to the end of the record. the tone arm rose up a tad, glided across the top of the platter and waited.

a new record dropped ontop of the finished one, and the arm moved over a bit, slowly lowered, and the needle found its groove and music returned to the dark room.

outside the tub bubbled.

and they continued.

i just dont want there to be any more secrets, she whispered and watched the bubbles form around his muscular midsection.

bloggers arent known to be so cut, she thought, but this one, damn it, what a man.

he caught her looking at him. he was uncomfortable being loved for his body.

but he was growing used to it.

this weekend the truest and i spent the weekend together.

we ate out a lot cuz i dont like her to cook when we’re together,

but yesterday morn she woke me up with some tofu bacon which i gotta say wasnt half bad

but it was nothing like the real crispy bacon we had at CJ’s on Pico on saturday

CJ’s is a place frequented almost completely by african americans

but run by mexican americans, who are also the cooks.

so when i ordered apple juice they asked “would you like fresh squeezed”?

who doesnt want fresh squeezed?

turns out they gave me a horchata. first one i ever had.

and not half bad either.