Half a thousand Listening to my
Fingers crossed Feeling you spread
“I know that leg flail very well” * It happens when
Inbred, fishy smelling Village people
Watching the ugly come out Stress and hurt Fully deserved As time marches steadily Forward, The happy and festive Overshadowed by the Circumstances, Feeding the side that hates, Constantly thinking Revising the plan For my final Escape, Not yet today…
Curled round, Protective and Inviting, Hand Resting as lips Press, Tongues duel, Sliding down Past the delightful Tangle, Feeling the slick, wet, Heat, Listening to her moans, Vibrating past my Lips image courtesy of Mrs Fever
They fire your blood Hot desire and lust, You awaken Afterwards, Life depleted, Sucked out, But filled with the Need, To offer them More, Tilt your chin upwards victim, They’ll only stop When you’re dry.
Following the contours Just like the soap and water Washing and touching To the sound of Her contented sigh And the rain like frying Of the falling water.
Featureless sky, Darkness encroaching Out from under the trees, Sit amongst the noisy quiet Letting the moments pass by, Sand in an hourglass I waste each grain, Waiting for you To return.
Leg thumping Along to internal Beat, Thoughts tripping Centered around You, Riding the whirlwind I glide to a Halt, And find missing My little Spoon.