maybe this weekend

this dress, the white with the floral that saleem liked so much i kept, i've worn it nonstop and even now still have it on, this dress that has carried me through a weekend about which i have come here to write.

its the boys, so many boys, and the fact that it goes so quickly is what shakes me about it, but its really nothing, in this day and age see... its nothing because i'm in new york and the pace is fast paced, so what do you expect, right? but still in a short period i go through a lot of boys.

i don't sleep with them, its important that one, but i flirt and i dance the touches, and we co-exist in the hopeless search for romance. to have the egyptian come friday, only to go home with the indian, caresses and touches that last through 5pm the next day, after i bite, i catch a party for an hour before the date with the jew over sushi, then back to the party only to see the russian from once upon a rooftop party, who took me home that night and gave me the best sex of my life... now he says hi for a moment and moves on. so down in the memories, i came home in the dress that carried me across 3 continents and 4 countries, 3 dates and 4 men... and now tonight i go to spend time with the motherland over champagne and persian food. at his house, against protocol. in a different dress now...

we'll see if it makes a difference.
s