Short Black Dress

Hello, I am Aime Stuart. You may remember me from such self help tapes as 'Smoke yourself thin' and 'Get some confidence, Stupid! I am a contradiction, a stereotype, a generalisation...you've seen it all before. I am a hypocrite and definitely not your type. I am a fucking poet & will dance you out of your shoes. I like a short black dress, red lipstick and an overdose of Jean Paul Gaultier, A pint of cider and black and hand to hold please, Failing that a cup of tea and a comfy bed. I'm aware this bio gives you almost nothing about me, so come find out for yourself. FINISH STRONG

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[shortblackdress]

So, how does it feel to have the most gorgeous eyes on tumblr?

Thank you for being so kind. You're a fantastic human. Spreading happiness over the web. 😊 I'm just a mere human and thank my parents for giving me these eyes 🙈😃

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hey, just wanna say that you look so pretty :) your eyes <3

🙈😊you're an unbelievable human. Thank you for taking time to message me. You've made me smile.

[shortblackdress]

Do you enjoy having a guy cum all over your face?

👌👌👌🙈

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👌

[tylerknott]

Typewriter Series #700 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Text for Tired Eyes:

I could spend a lifetime exploring the galaxies of your skin. I could chart and map, name and discover every constellation of birthmarks, freckles, scars and lines. Through the telescopes of my eyes I am memorizing the stars that decorate your back. I, the intrepid and uncompromising explorer and you, the galaxy of skin lying inside the universe of this bed.   At any given moment there lives on you and me a blanket of flesh, twenty square feet and six pounds heavy that separates your heart from mine.   The you that I touch at this given moment is changing and the countdown to starting over has already begun.   The we that we will touch, a month from this day will be entirely new; with each breath we shed the fingerprints and residue of our past, as the promise of beginning again grows silently and stubbornly atop us. It will be on that new landscape that I explore. I will row down the rivers of tears as they form canyons in the laugh lines on the corners of your mouth.  I will plant a flag, my flag, on the tallest peak of your perfect lips. Once done I will stand proud, posing for a photo that will never be taken. I will crawl, hands and knees if I must over the archipelagos of goosebumps that I left haphazardly in the wake of my travels. Will I rest in the hollow below your throat? Will I drag myself across the flat desert of your stomach and beg for water or will I float on the ocean of water as you slip into the bath; your skin the soft sand of the sea floor? Perhaps every freckle is a footprint I left behind, every birthmark the remains of a fire I lit to keep myself warm as night fell across the geography of your body. I have the patience, the love and the curiosity but time is running out.   The exploring I do this day, the discoveries, the flags planted and the footprints I leave will be washed clean as once again you shed the layers you can no longer carry. I, the intrepid and uncompromising explorer will never stop exploring you, the galaxy of skin and geography of flesh lying inside the universe of this bed. -Tyler Knott Gregson-

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