To My Friend On Her Birthday

Happy birthday, Lila! I love you this much:


His choppy hair brushes your eyelashes as you tenderly kiss him. You move it out of the way so you can peer admiringly into his eyes lined with makeup. He gets a little annoyed because he spent over twenty minutes flat ironing it to its asymmetrical perfection this morning. You get the point and move down his torso, pulling up his black and white striped shirt. You gently kiss his navel, but he shies away because the safety pin piercing he gave himself last week is still quite sensitive. With great difficulty, you undo his studded leather belt with your teeth then begin the arduous task of removing his skin-tight black jeans. After some time and not a little sweat, you peel off the leggings that were beneath the pants. You eye the throbbing bulge of his crotch hungrily and tear off his pink and white women’s-style briefs. His erect cock bursts free and wags at you as you notice his completely shaved pubes and balls. Look at this fucking hipster.