Thursday, January 13, 2011

how phobias start (IX)

you gotta give it time
she says, as she locks me in her owl eyes
opens her cherry lips slightly
as her snake tongue darts out
and barely touches the tips of my fingers
managing only to get the nails wet

you'll get used to it soon
she smiles as her hands curl behind my neck
and my hair parts like the red sea
as everything else in my body splits into the ocean
and her breath floods into my mouth
to the back of my throat, coats my lungs
and infiltrates my heart

long after she leaves, my skin still tastes like her
and she's left her temptress imprint on me
my sheets and my brain











i've washed these damn hands until they're raw and bloody
but i still can't get the smell of weed and cum off

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