painting sex

Please read and enjoy the words of a talented writer.


stripped of ambiguity finally at last.

his mind is my garden –

i run in it with bare feet,

chasing careless fingers and rush

fucking, drowning myself in rough love.

embraces like anger. the way he

singles me out with the tip of

tongue. slip it – entering what i can’t

reach. white and red on our palette

you paint me. all over my chest.

crying want into war, we

toss and turn under black. no sleep,

all sex. your face, my neck

spit through humidity that melts

my skin. the wax of me drips, and

Heaven is south for us.

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