A Long Night at Camp Blood

I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever, your leg my leg, your arm my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.

—Charles Bukowski (via tomygemini)

(Source: modernmethadone, via helloclarice)