Here we are again. Lying on my side, You running your nonexistant nails Down the curves of my bare back. "I can't tell what you're writing." "I'm not writing, stupid. I'm drawing." And I lay there Reveling for 10 minutes, Not at the comfort of being touched, But because it's your fingertips Tracing your silly doddles Across my bare skin. I'm not sure how we got here. From crab rangoons and redbull, To sushi and back scratches; From best friends to this, This thing so out of touch With any sensical title. I'm too much of a **** To even begin to act like I notice, To show that I'm more aware than I seem. Time for a new distraction. "Meet Virginia" is on, time to tease you.