and the few survivors who couldn’t
fight
were lined up
along with the civilians
and shot
or killed in ways to entertain the soldiers
And dogs were trained to
tear them to shreds
and the ground became black with
their soaked blood
......
Out of a dust cloud, kicked up by the revelry of midsommar.
Legs like a roaming leopard, caressed by the gentle breeze.
Golden locks, golden mane, from the dust she came.
She sparkles, like glitter under hot lights
Painted lips, beckoning you in, to a newfound feeling; a sense of love I'm feeling.
......
Hot all over
I don't know what to do
with my hands.
Look me in the eye and I feel my pussy beg
My mouth is so dry.
My legs
......
The night blushes to adorn your blouse,
Don’t you wish it came off?
The dawn shies away, prolonging.
Hence, the sensual calling,
all to myself
is where I want you.
Come a little closer,
I’ll give you something your body can vibrate about.
......
I still feel your eyes, looking in to mine - one summer afternoon.
The dry hot air, gradually turning hotter, as you look with surprise,
and then with love... one summer afternoon.
I don't know, if it is a question or an answer ... the expression floating in your eyes, right now.
I am struck in the moment, my fingers clutched in your palms, as your back rests against the wall
Let me shape your body along your curves; seep yourself into my entire being
I want your intimacy to dawdle along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone
I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dusk
Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our shapes melded on satin sheets
Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my pulsing swell; forgive me of my quavering immoral needs
......
How much I wish to make love.
To drag fingers down spine and collide lips
until I make them love love love
me. How much to trace a contour until I see soul.
I have fucked around with boys and boys
have fucked me, no vice or versa — semantics
semantics semantics they’d say. Play a game
of words of: fucking, loving,
fucking around, love-making, sex sex
sex cannot make love. I tried.
......
Out of a dust cloud, kicked up by the revelry of midsommar.
Legs like a roaming leopard, caressed by the gentle breeze.
Golden locks, golden mane, from the dust she came.
She sparkles, like glitter under hot lights
Painted lips, beckoning you in, to a newfound feeling; a sense of love I'm feeling.
......
two months of you felt like a single exhale
lost in the wind
like a sustained eye contact from that beautiful girl walking past
too short to fully appreciate
long enough to think about all day
we slept a bit less
to taste each other a bit longer
I daydreamed the days after
with bags under my eyes that safely kept memories
......
"It's alright to feel behind,"
What they told me when they learned
I had never slept with anyone.
"You're not missing out on anything, really.
Not the electric rush of skin on skin,
Not the satisfaction of man's most primal urge,
Certainly not the burning of carnal fuel
And the fumes that follow,
No, none of that is quite important.
You just keep doing you."
......
A fountain of pheromones, a bath in bleach,
Amorous anesthesia puts me to sleep.
Amoxicillin sex disinfects, leaving nothing unclean.
Cold, white, and sterile, like a hospital wall.
Find myself embracing paracetamol,
A creosote touch, but it's much more than just the usual call.
It leaves me wondering,
"What happens when poison expires?"
......