The life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
When told by my wife that our fifteen-year relationship was over, I found that everything in my life was upended. I took solace when friends and family pointed out I was no longer responsible for her personal happiness, just my own—and that of my four children.
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
The simplicity of “Tan lines” belies such a beautiful (and sensory) complexity. I can almost feel the heat radiating off burnished shoulders, the cool of alabaster hips, the warmth of the foot a whisper away from silky skin.
1 comment:
The simplicity of “Tan lines” belies such a beautiful (and sensory) complexity. I can almost feel the heat radiating off burnished shoulders, the cool of alabaster hips, the warmth of the foot a whisper away from silky skin.
So very beautiful...
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