Snails know their foreplay. They do it slow, slow, slow. I am like a snail because I make a house in whatever bed you’re in. Your moans are my blueprints. I feel them (your moans) travel around inside you, and I moan too. I want to feel what you feel.

Let’s fuck like gods and goddesses. Let’s fuck like we deserve to have crowds of worshippers beneath us, carrying our bed as we fuck.

The bed is my house. But you, my Sweet Craig, are my home. I will lie down in you. I will take all my meals at the red table of your heart. Every one of them will taste just right. I won’t run away because you are where I go when I run away.