This thing, that hath a code & not a core,
Hath set acquaintance where might be affections,
And nothing now
Disturbeth his reflections.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
“Who said that time heals all wounds? It would be better to say that time heals everything except wounds. With time, the hurt of separation loses its real limits. With time, the desired body will soon disappear, and if the desiring body has already ceased to exist for the other, then what remains is a wound... disembodied.”
-Samura Koichi
-Samura Koichi
You Mustn't Leave the Kids Unattended to
Softer it runs closer to the pubesce A tuft escaped the trappings of your underwear then another as the first was felt. Your legs all but forgotten your knee feigned sleep, leaving the hips ajar & saying discreetly that "Oh yes it is permissible". I fancied the smooth rut not the deep furrow that has lended access to the unseen but that it being of the world of material it held for a moment empty-whole potential but made from it something familiar, something to be held. Fondling those loose curly cues others came out to play, but no I didn't venture in I found common ground I feel the new skin much like a healthy child a little pudgy (Yes I know you were born with dimples on your lower back) Your knee has made the common ground less dangerous & more inviting with your womb a plateau only slightly raised Your skin stretched & smoothed flat the bones of your torso are hinted of (& followed as outlines to a puzzle) just as your panties reveal the make of your soft underpinnings nestled there & emitting warmth for us kids -the radiator is enough to heat the whole house.
And just as it was offered it was taken away You pretended wakefulness Your knee jolted pushing my hand -possibly- into what you had at first intended it to bequeath but that now it was a sort of vindictive retort of "That's what you could of had!" And yes I had chose otherwise but now with a little curiosity in retrospect which turned into regret of lost opportunities; I imagine with my hand in your panties you would have possibly stopped pretending sleep & rid my penis of its irksome underwear (having fully explored all their recesses) And once in your grip you would apply some pressure bowing it back toward me & letting up so as to redouble & pivoting it slowly around it's axis, skimming the surface but always maintaining control as though you were the pilot (on some game) of a plane that bore precious cargo of which you are gently bringing to the ground & maneuvering with refrain but poised to land as though on the softest pillow you wish to only leave one impression & this was to be your mark, a veritable signature of which you are proud. [With eyes closed your picture is taken Your skin concealed & thereby preserved]
And just as it was offered it was taken away You pretended wakefulness Your knee jolted pushing my hand -possibly- into what you had at first intended it to bequeath but that now it was a sort of vindictive retort of "That's what you could of had!" And yes I had chose otherwise but now with a little curiosity in retrospect which turned into regret of lost opportunities; I imagine with my hand in your panties you would have possibly stopped pretending sleep & rid my penis of its irksome underwear (having fully explored all their recesses) And once in your grip you would apply some pressure bowing it back toward me & letting up so as to redouble & pivoting it slowly around it's axis, skimming the surface but always maintaining control as though you were the pilot (on some game) of a plane that bore precious cargo of which you are gently bringing to the ground & maneuvering with refrain but poised to land as though on the softest pillow you wish to only leave one impression & this was to be your mark, a veritable signature of which you are proud. [With eyes closed your picture is taken Your skin concealed & thereby preserved]
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