| police woman |
[Oct. 20th, 2007|04:31 pm]
69_words
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The cop uniform is the only thing that keeps me from losing it right there, I think I actually started to tremble the one time it was you in normal clothes on a sidewalk by the bank, I left right away to go sleep it off, because of the risk of cardiac failure. It is not exactly a normal day when the stabbing chest pains are my favorite thing. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 12th, 2006|03:00 pm]
69_words
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"I can't believe you said that" and he said "what?" and she said "that was just uncalled for, you're just mean" and recoiling he repeated a "what?" before he remembered his words, "I fucked solid chunks out of your elite sculptor woman last night" and suddenly agreed, he had crossed a line, how was the sculptor woman supposed to be thought of this way? He said, "fuck you anyway." |
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| The Secret Life of Fingers |
[Sep. 24th, 2006|11:08 pm]
69_words
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| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
She waved her hands about for inflection as she sat before him, explaining the complicated small print on his contract. He daydreamed about the secret life of those red tipped fingers. How animated did they become during a long, relaxing shower? How hard did she bite her left thumb, while applying even, firm circles on her clit with the right? He suddenly awoke with her gentle touch and smirk. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 21st, 2006|04:48 pm]
69_words
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This is where I sat and waited for you as the sun started to sparkle back, the recovery from mono complete, music like I'd never heard before, plants in the window, the amazingly detailed jelly beans, the lumbering difficulty sprawling through their uncapped containment at 3am, the scattering of the amazingly detailed jelly beans all across the floor, but the sex was too good to ever stop coming back. |
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| Hungry Papa |
[Sep. 7th, 2006|06:31 pm]
69_words
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It was Hungry Papa who taught us how to lick the bowl. At supper he would slurp the soup and wipe up every bit of greasy broth with his thick quick tongue. This looked like fun to me. Mama thought this a bad example and hollered, "Stop." One tome I thought I saw her sucking on a spoon. But I know now, that was young imagination on the run. |
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| How to Redress a Scanty Word Count |
[Sep. 6th, 2006|07:23 pm]
69_words
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When she says, "Lick my attitude," run. She'll take you in the woods behind the State School, eat your feta, and complain, "Your pita's too dry." Saying, "Let's pretend," she'll bounce your libido off the seat of her '89 Mercury. Your Mojo will work overtime while the back-to-work whistle blows. Too late, you'll realize she's eaten your lunch and your tongue hasn't touched her attitude. THE END. |
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| How to Keep a Stater Job |
[Sep. 5th, 2006|01:56 pm]
69_words
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When she says, “Lick my attitude,” run. She'll take you in the woods behind the State School, eat your feta, and complain, “Your pita’s too dry.” Saying, "Let's pretend," she’ll bounce your libido off the seat of her '89 Mercury. Your Mojo will work overtime while the back-to-work whistle blows. Too late, you’ll realize she’s eaten your lunch and your tongue hasn’t touched her attitude. |
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| Modern Day Fairytale |
[Aug. 8th, 2006|12:12 pm]
69_words
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She feels it, but perhaps all that shiny armor deflects the heat because he moves as if he hasn’t even broken a sweat yet.
On one knee he pledges himself, “I know modern girls don’t like chivalry so I won’t place you on a pedestal. Instead I promise to knock down the riders who approach on a horse taller than yours and to bring you pleasure with my tongue.” |
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| Proof |
[Jul. 31st, 2006|05:41 pm]
69_words
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I wonder about fingerprints on skin and footprints in carpet and the double helix of DNA in traces of saliva and sweat left behind.
I wonder about molecules and if you yet remain in the air of the spaces we shared.
I wonder if that explains the void, if the evidence refutes your absence and so refuses to let me forget the way that you smell, taste and breathe. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 22nd, 2006|06:27 pm]
69_words
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You, my friend, are totally drunk, trashed, smashed. You stumble through the door, slamming it behind you. “Shit!” you exclaim, angrily and long, somehow managing to slur even the simplest of words.
Still falling all over the place, falling out of your sparse clothing, you roughly kick off your shoes and, almost dragging yourself, collapse onto the couch – to find another body next to you as you lie down. ( etc...Collapse ) |
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