#06

That scent of me,
of us,
my insides churn
to the surge,the heat,
the itch,
the taste of blood,
of mourning, of thought,
the sting sinking in my flesh
like the night, imbued,
the addict of my taste,
slave to my touch,
the heavy sense of him
lying there, breathless,
numb, my darling hashish,
crackling, moaning,
sobbing in ecstasy,
of a revelation,
of our gender.

-CD

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s