Standing alone in hardness, I envision cradling her willing-cranium moving it from side to side, up and down in affirmative-motions, as if she were saying, “Yes-yes-yes.” And, in sheer-earnestness, I tremble, staring into her sockets, so dark and void, they haunt me, as I enjoy the tempo. I go slow then I speed up like I’m on steroids, caressing the frontale, her pretty-forehead covering sweet-lovely-lobes. Oh, I am overcome with such loneliness, stroking diligently, I probe between the maxilla and her open mandible, relinquishing my dreams into an empty throat, one that once spoke about love, and crumble.
Posted on: Wed, 14 Aug 2013 21:09:14 +0000