I thought I just wanted a sex fest.
Not feast, fest, meaning festival.
Or fiesta.
Whichever.

I was willing to make the call.
The booty call.
I've never just had sex
Only made love.
With a guy I loved more than anyone.
We all know how THAT turned out.

So I thought I had the solution.
B to the O to the O to the T to the Y.
Nope.
I am not that girl.
At least not right now.

But I keep thinking about you.
And you're so far away.
But I still think about you.
Maybe more than I should.
And I want love.

07/10/2003

Author's Note: Well, not what I expected when I typed in the title, but my poems always go off on their own.

Posted on 07/09/2003
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