You flutter away from my hands
Our disentanglement is what follows
Your Ovum smells especially fertile today
An ancient jug in an opportunistic thrift store
The old wood varnish
And cosmic webs
It’s summer
The blue of a past life
And I’m waiting to be flooded with outrageous fortune
You wear my cum better than a tank top
And I’m searching for that perfect spot between your blatant thighs
To land perfectly
With orgasmic precision
An orange peel wasted
A combination of words that describe the feeling:
“I’m experiencing an Inconvenient Catalytic Exteriorization Phenomenon”
If I could rub your lips I can hear your pain
You tumble down the stairs
And I’ve lost faith in my unconsciousness
And that small, pink bird with green breast flies away
Always elusive to my charms.
© A.R. Minhas 2018
Nice !!
Thank you! 😀