Nicole

Heart dancing so fast it's going to vomit, twirling in the open fields and misty mountaintops of home and memory and inexplicable power. You exist and you can feel it - each step is significant, and you exhale with each thud and the onslaught of what's now required. And these are those nights that you absolutely, undoubtedly and without the slightest pause or hesitation exist to explore. One fleeting presentation of a feeling unmatched in its potential for despair and visceral, honest, unflinching bliss. One of those nights where turquoise toenails, eyebrows and misplaced sighs play on a stage equal to their peers, the soul-crushing smile and an extra beat in the look. The walls of these nights are cluttered with the uneasiness of youthful vulnerability, of the self-made delusion that there is something tangible to be gained from this, finally this, endeavor. Oh, but there is! There always is. For no matter what you encounter in the presentations to follow, this one happened, and it happened it to you. Your existence met its example and you did your damndest to dance tirelessly, to continue moving with the rhythm of white knuckles and laughter and those tantalizing nanoseconds filled with intoxicating possibility. Remember this as you rest your head to the pillow at the end of nights like these, clinging to the quickly dissolving evidence of their abbreviated occurrence, challenging the stars of fate under muttered breath and droopy red eyes...until next time...

TL

I once knew a man whose experience radiated in the sweat and stubble and fat of a life spent searching for the beauty that makes your heart break at the first sign of its existence, and for which you'd gladly devote the rest of your days in the hope that you may prolong its demonstration for one...more...moment.
If only.
From this man came three examples of love, light shining through the creaks of their smiles and the ironic wisdom of their short experience. These examples cured an illness for which I hadn't known I was afflicted, their souls crushing mine into believing that its remedy was possible in all of us. And when I found myself in the scorching depths of the eldest, a stunning sage of abbreviated affection, I did my best to heed the halting screams of violent life that had been bestowed upon her small, perfect breasts from the time her eyes first met the world and began dancing innocently in all its damning potential. And when she left and took with her the game we had created, the rules of which were forged in the fucking and sweating of youthful ignorance, my eyes met a temporary fog in which every shape and color became tainted with the proof of her departure and its startling reality, and after endless days spent lamenting this occurrence I somehow felt content in knowing that the life breathed into her gnawing existence was done so by the man drenched in sweat and stubble and fat, the man from whom I learned the beauty in abbreviated sensations of comfort and hope and the blinding joy in the search for more.

Class

Curves and folds of mustard yellows and tomato reds conceal her privileged secrets, a fresh garden of effortless sensuality. Her vulnerability embodies an indisputable charm and beauty, and for a fleeting eternity she's yours - she's all of ours. And then, just as quickly as it started, she retreats back into the shadowed land of irrationality, where desires dance with recklessness under the watchful eye of every Student.