“You
look just like your father.” She said and she plucked his eye from my socket.
I wouldn’t end up that way, the way she labored terribly in the garden often bruised and bloody from her triumphs killing off what remained of her species. You could see the days in her face, the age that had carried through her ears and the stress that showered red through her eyes.
“It’s getting old.” He said as he put his dick back in his pants.
“I used to love you.’ She said as she tucked away her breast, ‘I still do now and then.”
I don’t want to be like her, the way she carries heavy bags under her eyelids, she searched the surface of my head for a long, lost lover. I stole what she had for dinner and gave it to the roaches on my ceiling.
“You’re not as beautiful as you were.” He said with his cock in her mouth.
“I’m quitting my job next week.’ She said as she put a diaper on her cat. ‘We can’t live with you as a silver.”
“You’re just like your mother.” He said as he licked the inside of her ear.
Blood poured down her thigh and she thought of the carrots she had for lunch.
She’d be orange by the time she choked on the cavity. Laughter filled the room as they all single-filed to the edge of the universe.
Meat grinder.
She sat with her legs crossed as he tried to sodomize her quietly.
He took her eye from her chest and gave it to the snow angels that hopped on their porch that night. Strange and lonely, they crept over top the roof and shimmied down into the closet where they devoted themselves to masturbation.
We could’ve left things in the living room; she would’ve picked them up and threw them away. Just the way we thought things should be. We couldn’t sing outside when it snowed, the stairs were too slippery for us to ever dare to climb across the riverbank, but we forgot. And we forget where we left the keys and he drums, smashing into my face and the lights dim. Standby.
And she slept with him.
I wouldn’t end up that way, the way she labored terribly in the garden often bruised and bloody from her triumphs killing off what remained of her species. You could see the days in her face, the age that had carried through her ears and the stress that showered red through her eyes.
“It’s getting old.” He said as he put his dick back in his pants.
“I used to love you.’ She said as she tucked away her breast, ‘I still do now and then.”
I don’t want to be like her, the way she carries heavy bags under her eyelids, she searched the surface of my head for a long, lost lover. I stole what she had for dinner and gave it to the roaches on my ceiling.
“You’re not as beautiful as you were.” He said with his cock in her mouth.
“I’m quitting my job next week.’ She said as she put a diaper on her cat. ‘We can’t live with you as a silver.”
“You’re just like your mother.” He said as he licked the inside of her ear.
Blood poured down her thigh and she thought of the carrots she had for lunch.
She’d be orange by the time she choked on the cavity. Laughter filled the room as they all single-filed to the edge of the universe.
Meat grinder.
She sat with her legs crossed as he tried to sodomize her quietly.
He took her eye from her chest and gave it to the snow angels that hopped on their porch that night. Strange and lonely, they crept over top the roof and shimmied down into the closet where they devoted themselves to masturbation.
We could’ve left things in the living room; she would’ve picked them up and threw them away. Just the way we thought things should be. We couldn’t sing outside when it snowed, the stairs were too slippery for us to ever dare to climb across the riverbank, but we forgot. And we forget where we left the keys and he drums, smashing into my face and the lights dim. Standby.
And she slept with him.
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