her legs spread forth,
knees supporting an open harbor
twin ports standing at the apex,
pulsating beacons calling for sailors' return.
further inland, a dual cascade has begun moving down her...
ports version 2
at the stoplight
he puzzles over me
fumbling with the pieces
unsure of which box I go in;
"there's a dyke I'd like to fuck"
I'll give him that, he'd be all
Postcards From Barcelona: A Stoplight with a Fountain
There is a hint of darkness, soft and warm,
Within you moving, darkness that defies
All senses, shielded from the brewing storm
By the safe shelter of your lazy thighs
That will stand guard and...
Promise # 2
Postcards From Barcelonaby
Prose Poem Prolixby
ready to snapby
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