Friday, October 26, 2012

I was thinking of how you resurrected me from graying and stone corners. You breathed color into me at the park. My hand running acrost your tattooed star. Dripping between my thighs in the grass lot. 

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Antique Stud

Small stains of sweat beaded in the lines down his back. His thin, gray t-shirt was rolled at the sleeves to expose modest muscles, smooth skin. It clung in spots closest to his chest and shoulder blades. His dark hair was slicked back revealing a prominent forehead, piercing eyes, and pink, pouty lips. As she checked out at the counter, he sat behind her, she imagined his eyes boring through the backs of her calves. His thoughts about her legs swung over the antique furniture. A strand of hair falling to his face, getting caught in the corner of his mouth as he pulsed. He slouched low in his chair, taking in all her lightened glory.

He had one image of her in his mind held there by the heat of the afternoon sun. The scene was a close up, his tongue touching the sharp corners of her defined calf muscles, tiny chill bumps forming at the source.