Innuendos and maybes that I could slay thee that your death might give way to clear definitions no guesses, just yeses rolled off perky pink tongues eager to wrestle longing to please that my preciously pink tongue could be the yes that silences your maybe and I could put to rest the imagination that causes …
My head fits so eloquently into the crook beneath your shoulder, it’s as though this space was intentionally left for me, genuine as the shine of my eye, when you inspire my cheeks to lift, and the lengthy sigh when it seems like it’s been far too absent, the only non urgent call I accept at …
Dear Society, I am tired. I know that there has always been this intricate relationship between your direction and my hips, but there is only so much one back can stand. I realize the desperate nature of your character and its necessitated dependence on me. However the time has come. You are no longer an infant obligated to my breasts. I …