Picture, if you will, how it feels to have been created as something akin to a science fair project. Of course nowadays science has become more complex and more powerful and more human and more vulgar: our progress became our progress became our progress in order to consider what it is to have been created as a machine and a machine. Machines fail to create vulgarities - vulgar creates vulgar - humans roam the meadows. 

I just came - came back after a long pause. In this pause I have rediscovered how it feels to be touched.

It's always good to quote a folk song.

So desperately now, once again, I fantasise about you. My body has never felt that good next to another body. I look at your portrait night and day, I wake up next to you, having no clue what will become of me when you are not there.

You write to me; something about a button, mine or yours. And I know, this is me, here lying, waiting for you. 

You have nothing to say, right now, but you had understood....with the clock ticking in the background and the fridge purring like a content cat.

You ask me if I'm leaving a big empty space...I nod and there is some laughter. Just from that. And I can also say: I come come come come can come cum come onto you darling onto your beautiful nothingness, your wonderful back of your knees, your curls.

I want this, now, I want the hair on your head. Your button-hole. You know this is how I like to be touched, through the hole in my trousers, drinking cognac from the bottle.

We are touching and moaning and keeping it down. Sometimes I think of Henry Purcell.