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January 26, 2005
Daily bread and discretions
You are here, living your life,
You are taller now, moving on your toes
Around nervously, as you talk,
And I have known , that I can hold you
And I have cut your skin, cracked your skull,
But to no avail, I have never been inside you,
And for me, the whore of sutured skins, open
To infidilities, and copulations, in crowded places
Across from tables, covered by beer bottles and cigarettes.
LOVE HAS BEEN A PARADOX, IN SHADOWS AND LIGHTS,
Breathlessly coarsed, climaxed, and intercoursed
Me-with no panties, no bras, nipples aching against my shirt
Me-humid, and damp, smelling the sex I play in my head, and limbs
Me-the bride of old matresses, and hallway empty couplings,
Leaning against your cock, holding it inside,
Me-the greedy femme, who never passed up,
The left overs and the left outs
Forcing my lips, my tongue, on you, lapping on your skin
On my knees, hands, all fours, ftorced, trampled and left
We make an interesting pair, you and I
As we share life and cigarettes,
Aches, hurts, and joys, in little dried pieces
That only e know how to chew on, in tuxedo shirts,
But always bare, shoeless, while we cross all we can
As we age, and still can't find a way
To avoid our daily bread, and discretions
Posted by Idinraha at January 26, 2005 01:09 PM