worm turns (Remove filter)
Bleached Bland
softly she breathes
night coats her head
I wish I lay in a different bed
some women thrill
one look inflames
their kicks come from playing games
she's too banal
her lips lukewarm
the polar reverse of a sensual storm
no excitement
zero surprise
I know exactly what's behind those eyes
it's been one year
itchy my feet
not enough her being ...
Sunday 5th September 2021 11:25 am
Recent Comments
Mike McPeek on Fallen Leaf
3 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
4 hours ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
6 hours ago
Hélène on Elementary
6 hours ago
Rolph David on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
6 hours ago
Rolph David on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
7 hours ago
Tim Daly on Prayer for the Little Ones
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Prayer for the Little Ones
7 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Prayer for the Little Ones
8 hours ago