Fallin Into Bosoms: Seasonal Semen
The weather's warmed up along with the bodies of earth. I am like most young fleurs, around this time of the year. SunStar explained it perfectly concerning a chance encounter she had with a gang of beautiful construction workers: "The pollen just does something to me; I mean, how can one not be affected with semen floating around everywhere?" Admittedly, more than the pollen has been doing something to me. Goldylocks and me created a spell to which I am bound. Doing nothing with my moments but reliving past ones of naked brown limbs wrapped around electric whispers. Damn. KitKat has been estranged from me for sometime seemingly due to the same semenal sabbatical. Her & Jumanji, so tender and wild. Meanwhile, my heart is flippin around trying to figure out its position. See...I'm not supposed to fall in love with my honeybee. It's forbidden in the established code of SPU (serial polygomists united; yes the pun is intended & deliberate). We just play birds & bees in the movies, not in reel life. So I'm wonderin, how do I turn off my heart's automatic pilot. He's my friend, he's friendly, fine, funny and we pollinate like the world's rarest must. Dammit. As a SP of SPU, I have long believed in the body's ability to participate in fornication's fabulousness without obligating the heart to the finality of monogamy. I believe a grey area of coolness exists in the often turbulent pool of pollen & petals. Surely, friends can fool around and remain logical. To hell with Hollywood and automatic pilots.