- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The cock block chronicles
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The cock block chronicles
Was it the shame or the shock that slapped me back into reality? I can't say and honestly I couldn't care less. Whatever it was it propelled me to leave. Leave without my pride and my dignity.
Those were the living sacrifices that I made the moment I entered his room. His?? I shiver at the thought of the word HIS. His room, my arms, his bed, my eyes, his chair, his lips... His lips or do I mean the lips which were made for me. My lips. Where did I begin and where did he end? Legs, arms, clothes, heat. Whispers, moans, touches as our bodies meet. Black meets white and melts into grey.
Flashes pass through my memory and make me dizzy. Thoughts of leaving it all behind in his room are dissolved by the feel of his touch.The traces of his touch that leave with me. Can they see it on me? Can they see what he has done to me? What we did to each other? He, whose name I will only whisper at night before I go to sleep. When my walls break down Brendan will be the name on my heart. Him. His name. Brendan
- COMMENTS
Ashesh9almost 10 years agoO Poetess from South Africa !!
-----from a staunch Nelson Mandela fan
