There I lay
fucked for dead
here I sit
half-lid aware

Fluid flows to the tip of a
medium muscle and back and forth
it dances within the tissue.
Like a flavored milk to a virgin
hole.

Your mouth through the strainer
I'm drinking her face,
waves are curves, we lick the
foam off the top of their crests.

Your ass is a sideways eight
squeezed into a coke bottle frame
and I'm trying-trying-trying my damndest
not to write what I want to say.

08/31/2009

Posted on 08/31/2009
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