Monday, April 29, 2002

Oh lover let me fuck the life out of you until tomorrow drips between your legs. The weight of conversation pulls heavily on my desire and I find myself waiting for godot to suck my cock better than she ever has before. I watch the celluloid flicker certain I've seen the film but unsure of the ending. All these soft-core melodramas seem to end the same: sex and death with honour but an orgasm away.

Oh lover the frosty wind is biting down on my genitals the frozen cock clanging hard against the brass knuckles of my whitened testes. Burn in ferocity the smiling billboard that gleans in low angle shots to mock my attempts to move on, move onward. The skillful lick of lips with forked tongue so lacking in delicacy so forlorn over wasted opportunities to send shivered shocks through my nipple system. The morning waits in anticipation.

Oh lover bend completely before me with eyes closed to the atrocities my desire will acrobatically inflict on your marked remains. The odours of shit and semen compete for dominance neither submitting to the flawless vacuum of your spread unshaven legs. Against the thickened pane the possessed wind screeches with yearning. Your welted ass lifts up in a heartless response.

Oh lover I wipe the blood off sheets from endeavours too suppressed to evoke comment. The shreads of cotton underwear soaking with yesterday fall exhausted to the floor waiting for the finale the final the end. Stroking my memory with muscled fingers I lean into desire and grope blindly. The window cracks and the vacuum explodes ...


Post a Comment

<< Home