i will not be your muse
let you
fill your fountain pen with my spirit
you sucked up when i was asleep
wrote your words from my hands
spinning tales from my hair
your song the shape of my groins
i will
swallow my words speaking backwards
my fluids flowing back to me
my kiss so dry
your tongue pulls back in fear
my lust inhaled
safe in my chest
my nipples, soft
my breath all mine
the sheets not crumpled
pluto back in the sky
i was never there
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten