Wednesday, August 11, 2010


suddenly everything is disclosed and inconsequential.
each moves closer in the dark, writhing in adolescence. a touch's just within a grasp. flighty little touches, adolescent, these are as good as her consent.

when it's over and virtue spilt.
those budded rosy lips
shall likely wilt.

next thing, we're touching.

No comments:

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...