Sitting out in the sun Waiting on the minutes
I tug my hair Wanting it to be
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.