the universe wipes away tears as mortality slithers around the minds of those awake, aware
there are still supple beings - impressionable, but easily bruised like ripe fruit
the problem is:
freckles, curly hair, and ta-tas
she, in the red dress with pairs of testicles in grasp will tow naive victims through
bush, thick, and thorn.
even consciousness is spoiled by pheromones and fantasy
inebriated
intoxicated
shrivel- shrink- shy away
from the shameful shit
that leaves you sleepless,
shivering/sweating/swearing
that you can stop
and submerge yourself
safe from the crossfire.
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2 comments:
honeytraps bleed the soul dry and the soul is already in drought when going to sleep while longing for the touch of ta-tas, curly hair and freckles...pick your poison and bleed either way
this is my rifle. this is my gun. this is for fighting, and this is for fun...
This was quite good.
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