Conjured hues of blued succulence
slip pasts tainted lips
painted and pouted
painted and pouted
a different shade of rouge…
And I listen!
I listen for the hymn that bellows below her skirt.
trip past pits, pats and scats,
as her legs drum
the hum drum
trip past pits, pats and scats,
as her legs drum
the hum drum
drumming
sweet whispers
dancing
outside
my head.
And I listen.
I listen to
fingers snapping
hands clapping
clasping boldly against my spine
caressing, gently
plucking, pulling skin
skillfully.
sinfully.
and I wait.
I wait for
the big band
to swing right
bop left
arythmically
arythmically
like shallowed
echoes
in each
and every step
she takes...
i can feel the
murmurings of
Miles
for miles
and miles
and i am mesmerized!
mesmerized
with want..
wanting her to
play me
curiously
raw and hard.
raw and hard.
As she has
SO
many times before.
SHE
A random rhythm reddened by anger!
A random rhythm reddened by anger!
Rhythmically banging notes
like desires pounding
like desires pounding
heat and sweat
a top entwined nakedness
a top entwined nakedness
of jealous lovers with
ravenous
passions
resisting the urge to FUCK!
passions
resisting the urge to FUCK!
2 b continued....
kdtaylor, 2009
section 8 coffee
all rights reserved
when you think your heart is eroding continue to beg for life
2 comments:
there are those pictures being painted again...so glad the brush continues to flow
i agree...you paint a vivid picture with the words....a astrong write sis..
Post a Comment