photo: Timmy Toucan
In weaker moments
I dream of my pale legs
tangled in yours,
sex-damp,
and mottled with rosy bruises
that will turn to purple soon
where your hips
met my flesh.
In weaker moments
I dream of my parched lips
pressed to yours,
kiss-wet
and red-raw with abrasions
that will turn tender
where your teeth
met my mouth.
In weaker moments
I dream of my shredded fingers
pushed into the sharp ice,
cut-blooded
and numb with cold
that will soon burn
where I clawed to pull you
from my frozen garden.
Sometimes, Rgrl, I wish you *would* fail to make me feel.
Powerful, raw, almost feral but, above all, honest. I love it.
Wow RG! I see what you mean about a productive day.
I wish there was more of it though. ‘my frozen garden’ – god, that’s spot on, perfect.
Pen
Yet again, you fill me with awe and envy.
God, I don’t know why. Mostly I just think I’m a pathetic whiner.
RG Haven’t decided whether I like this or not but damn it is still good.