Saturday, February 4, 2012

Make Love...



make love...


slow, smoky…eyes move inside like a cord
wrapped around a wrist
a slow burn.


only a sigh through parted lips
matched by hips
parted legs
thighs wrapped
holding still until…
until


hands on either side of cheeks
mouths meet for a moment
cheeks flame for a moment-
thrusts build into a rhythm, a beat


only saved by punctuating blinks
eyes reach in, liquid trails down
the cock parts the holy water
the cunt baptizes the invader

sweat mingles for peace


and in a frenzy of all of this violence,
of all this suffering
the smoke subsides, the blaze is stilled.
and the bodies, they pile upon each other
like old friends.





(c)Anais

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