- Erotic Poetry
- The Tug on The Leash
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I ventured into rainbows and lost wages. She keeps pulling up the picture. My mind weighs heavy with poor Abby, skin pocked with marks and all 6'5. Those blonds always get you. Like you're running some fantasy, over and over. The leather gloves. The feel of disdain and primitive thumping lust. The tug on the leash. Groping my breasts as I rock forward and back with each pull. Billy says I know where you should find a man. The library. Thinking about a word priest. There's something about them boys with a big ole vo-cab-ulerry. Slip my ruby slippers on. Braid my hair in pigtails. Lift up my frilly dress. Fuck the Cowardly Lion's curls straight.
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