Do not write poems likening his body to god
Do not send valentine haikus when he has not written after seeing him
Do not wear hiking boots, crew sweaters, jeans and green underwear
Do not get drunk so that you can touch him and then not remember him touching you because you were drunk
Do not write messages about wishing to buy him expensive things
Do not write messages envisioning a peripheral future
Do not protest when he becomes jealous
Do not protest when he says he dresses better
Do not protest when he ignores you
Do not tell him you were dying when he ignored you in the past
Do not tell him you are afraid of him
Do not effuse about other men, living or dead
Do not mock-brag
Do not share your sincere excitement
Do not share your observations when they are not sought
Do not share your thoughts as they occur to you
Do not confess your every thought
Do not impulsively share songs with a title that fits but lyrics or assumed admiration for a band that could be misconstrued (the same for images)
Do not overanalyse
Do not compliment his cock
Do not flatter his sense of depravity
Do not tell him you like the way he says things
Do not wait for him
Do not hope
Do not pray
Do not beg
Do not grovel
Do not imagine yourself lying on his entryway floor
Do not suggest that he could do anything he likes
Do not suggest that he has complete control over you
Do not suggest that you leave the country to get away from him
Do not think of him every time you touch yourself after you already decided not to think of him when you touch yourself a long time ago
Do not think of him when you come
Do not think of him when you are with other men
Do not write poems about him every day or every week
Do not write poems about him while you are working on stories for The New York Times and Esquire magazine
Do not write poems about him when you are emailing The Wall Street Journal Magazine’s hot culture editor
Do not think of the way he smells
Do not think of how embarrassing it would be if he read that you think of the way he smells and it felt for him the way it feels when Danny said he remembers the way you smell, and taste
Do not think of him being creeped out by your sexual longing
Do not think of his tragic childhood
Do not think of his absent lady-killer father
Do not think of his “overbearing” mother’s pain
Do not think of his loneliness
Do not think of him having bad sex with young women
Do not think of him having good sex with the person who taught him to kiss
Do not think of him in love
Do not think of his ex-girlfriend
Do not think of him being dominated
Do not think of him at work
Do not think of his hands on his desk
Do not think of his lap and his thighs beneath his jeans
Do not think of him being polite and friendly to colleagues outside of work in the street
Do not think of him being polite and friendly to colleagues whom he would secretly like to fuck
Do not think of him jerking off to his hot colleagues
Do not think of him fucking his hot colleagues
Do not think of him fucking the pantyhose designer in Vienna
Do not think of the pantyhose designer in Vienna wearing designer pantyhose for him while he fucks her
Do not think of him hurting the pantyhose designer
Do not think of the pantyhose designer crying but not saying anything because she’s cold and controlled and interested, above all, in appearances
Do not think of your envy of the pantyhose designer’s pantyhose and glamour
Do not think of him in the hotel presenting the underwear to strangers and standing with his arms crossed and smiling and shaking hands and being professional and wearing casual designer clothes with controlled oddities
Do not think of his lady-killer father presenting underwear to strangers and fucking them
Do not think of him naked in the hotel bed with his hair brushed back after showering
Do not think of him reading on the plane
Do not think of him scrolling Instagram
Do not think of him denying his addiction
Do not think of him writing to someone on Tinder
Do not think of him plotting a date
Do not think of the number
Do not think of the 20-years-younger Tinder date scrolling her phone on his sofa
Do not think of the 20-years-younger Tinder date’s sexual agency and lack of self-consciousness
Do not think of him fucking the 20-years-younger Tinder date and coming inside her
Do not think of their performative moaning
Do not think of him with his Gay Friends
Do not think of him pretending to read architecture books on his sofa with his cherished ugly shoes and the pink objects
Do not think of his jarring lighting and poorly hung art
Do not think of his hidden photographs
Do not think of him spending all his money on things
Do not think of his fears
Do not think of his private desires
Do not think of him trying to do domestic things in his apartment
Do not think of when he liked you and said you can teach this old fuck some things about gender
Do not think of when he called you My Gender Soldier
Do not think of when he called you My Student
Do not think of when you embarrassed yourself and he said, I love your voice
Do not think of when he wanted a photograph of the sauna but you thought you were too fat and didn’t do it
Do not think of when he wanted you to meet him at his flat after he got back from his work trip and you wanted to more than anything but you didn’t because you worried that he wouldn’t respect you
Do not think of when he cancelled your date to go out with someone else and pretended he had a work dinner
Do not imagine him drunk and having sex with the date and thinking about you
Do not think of the anxiety of being in love with him and trying not to scare him constantly when he used to like you
Do not think of him out of sorts in Brazil
Do not think of him comfortable in the South of France
Do not think of him at his mother’s house in Milan
Do not think of his aristocratic colonialist family
Do not think of his shame
Do not think of his Phantasies
Do not think of him spitting in your face
Do not think of him coming in your mouth
Do not think of him coming in your mouth just so you can swallow
Do not think of swallowing
Do not think of him coming inside without a condom
Do not think of him coming in your ass without a condom
Do not think of him pulling out and coming on your ass
Do not think of him pulling out and coming on your stomach
Do not think of him coming on the small of your back in his shower
Do not think of him coming in your hand
Do not think of him watching you put his fingers in your mouth
Do not think of him putting your fingers in his mouth and kissing you
Do not think of him kissing your neck, near your ear
Do not think of him kissing your ear
Do not think of him resting his lips on your neck and leaving them there
Do not think of him licking you while your jeans are pulled down to your knees
Do not think of him licking you while you wear the jeans buttoned up with the hole
Do not think of him putting three fingers inside while you wear the jeans buttoned up with the hole and tried to hold your face like a statue
Do not think of him putting it in your mouth and then putting it inside all the way so that it hurts and then putting it in your mouth and then inside all the way so that it hurts, over and over again
Do not think of his face looking at your face
Do not think of him listening to your sighing
Do not think of him sleeping with his arms around you
Do not think of him rereading your poem
Do not think of him missing you
Do not think of him calling you
Do not think of him inviting you over
Do not think of him wanting to see how you put your apartment together
Do not think of him wanting to look at your photographs of James’s house and Gibb River Road
Do not think of him feeling sympathy for you when he asks you to tell him about your rape
Do not think of him wanting to look at your photographs of India and Patagonia and Don Bachardy
Do not think of him asking about Don Bachardy and Christopher Isherwood’s house
Do not think of him asking about Don Bachardy’s jacket and dinner stories and frailty in the car
Do not think of him believing in you
Do not think of him wanting to read your writing
Do not think of him suggesting edits for your first book
Do not think of him reading your press clippings and not being jealous and being proud of your success
Do not think of him disapproving of your detractors
Do not think of him loving Matt and his partner with you
Do not think of him eating dinner with Matt and P in their flat, and walking back to his apartment drunk and happy afterwards
Do not think of him engaged in playful banter, shuffling around the apartment on the weekend
Do not think of him buttoning up his coat on you
Do not think of him going away with you
Do not think of him bringing you with him on his work trips
Do not think of him waiting until he can find you in the hotel bed after work
Do not think of him getting hard at work thinking about when he can find you in the hotel bed after work, while he’s on the phone
Do not think of him analysing your patterns and your fascination with codes and offices
Do not think of his Freudian analysis of your enjoyment of putting fingers in your mouth
Do not think of him misreading your shyness
Do not think of him misreading your archness
Do not think of him open
Do not think of him sharing secrets with you
Do not think of him curious about your secrets
Do not think of him falling in love with you and feeling sorry for not believing in you and ignoring you and never ignoring you again