*********

She was a pitiful little fuck me doll

poor me sat on her finger

tiny crybaby bird that wouldn't shut up

twittering like a hatchling

little did she know she was a cum rag

Or did she know?

I am nothing she would say

I just kept thinking yeah

you truly are nothing

How could you treat me so?

Because you keep begging to be whipped

if you don't want to be trampled

why do you keep lying down

I felt selfish about giving her pleasure

hoofs banging at her making her head wobble

She knew nothing about sadness

She knew pity and I wasn't giving her a dime

If you want pity from me sharpen

your sales pitch

I crumpled her up and tossed her away

knowing she was a slip

marked rejected

horizontal attitude

I spread vertical 

with a horizontal attitude

the bed bites me and the gash

bites you 

sweet lap

licking the itch without heart

without love

the vaginal river catches me washing 

the sin

the fear

the lust

and the rip tide pulls me under 

below the waves 

undertow of fucked up head

with the heavy thrust

of you

eyes shut tight

until I send you home 

we have nothing

but this thing

in common

25 years separates us

but I find your youth beautiful

your skin supple

I will make you the machine

and you will make all the girls melt

with the knowledge 

of this woman.

in so many words.

image0-1, a photo by Linda Kay Lund on Flickr.

midnight

It's the half ass smile
and the ripple in each tender muscle
vein pop and sinew delicious
he will get naked in seconds flat
mid west fucked up and we know it
the accent when he talks dirty
boils in my head
Injecting me with metabolized booze
the sex makes me drunk and exhausted
but in the hours we spend under and over and beyond
what seems humanly possible
In these sheets I am still broken
not in my thighs or the kiss but in that place love happens
and I give and take it just a little longer
because the wash of this cunts ears
only knows how your heart beats at the tip
but we love it and each other in our fucked up way
until I walk out the door at 9 am
Lone wolf in this trail of tears collecting affection, pretending
washed clean in the lust of the midnight ride