- Non-Erotic Poetry
- You Dig S & M?
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I don't get it.
It just doesn't make sense.
It's not 'I know he's going to kill her.'
She was a milky blue eye all over.
Limp.
Expressionless.
Her hung hands and fingertips.
I had an invitation.
I breathed just like this.
Hogtied in ruffles with bands of velvet belted across my wrists.
Back and bottom.
No panties.
Hungry and isolated for fifteen days.
Around me, the smell of french bread.
Stacks of chocolates.
A beet.
Head covered.
Drill a hole out.
The bit kept grinding in and in.
I detest the noise.
