četrtek, november 03, 2005

Pulpy, violet lips

Phone rings.
Unknown.
Subtitled introduction
of Him.
Deep, tuny
voice.
Alluring.
I pushed another button.
Inconsistent.
Makes him stand on toes.
Mr. Maybe.
Juicy.
So not for me,
so lipped.
He tells me how he'd do me
again.
I promenade about with
a need in my lungs,
holding the phone close
to my ear.
We chat about birds and bees,
honeycombed.
It's the magic circle
chapter,
sterile delusion.
It tasted syrupy today.
His brownness
roasting my shell.
Got me crispy
for his early morning crunch.
What happens when a girl
can't sleep?

5 Comments:

At 5:17 pop., Anonymous Anonimni said...

Nice...! I like this. It remember me of somebody....Humm I wonder who.

 
At 10:28 dop., Blogger Zvita said...

So do I ...

 
At 9:46 dop., Anonymous Anonimni said...

Yep it was good too. I want to taste it again. Tell me do you want it.....? I know you you do.....

I have dirty thought runnin though my mind right now. I want it,I need it,just one more time Tia......

 
At 5:37 pop., Blogger Zvita said...

CUT THE CRAP!

 
At 7:27 dop., Anonymous Anonimni said...

What................

 

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