Junior year of highschool,
had my very first wet dream.
Remember it clearly,
was humping this great big stuffed rabbit,
came in thick loads over my underwear and sheets.
Had to wash everything.
Had a conversation about this recently,
‘n this friend of mine said that our mind is constantly putting odd things together,
many of them sexual,
so she honestly wonders how many other dreams like that people have ‘n don’t remember,
mix that with the arousal that happens naturally in REM,
‘n it’s a recipe for a shot in the dark.
‘n that’s probably as good an explanation as I’ll get.
Got all the groundings of science and logic.
Pretty good explanation.
But she’s also not been in bed with me,
never will.
‘n I know never’s a long time, but trust me.
You’ll be the first to know if it ends up a lie.
See, I got this stage fright when someone else’s there.
I joke with ’em ‘n say it’s the alcohol or whatever else there is to blame,
but I know that deep down I don’t trust ’em,
I’m just lonely.
Don’t have dreams about them.
Don’t sleep in their beds.
Lay awake regretting it,
‘n they wonder why I don’t come back after the one.
so…
I wish…
I could say…
how much I trust you,
but we…
we don’t…
have that…
I’m projecting again.
need to work on that.
As good an explanation as any,
but really,
who has their first and only wet dream ’bout some stuffed rabbit?
Some guy who wants his next fuck to be intimate friends first,
but who ain’t worth a damn at communicating any of that.
