Monday, July 23, 2007
Another temporary pattern in the sand.
She knows I’d grind her pelvis into the dirt,
If she wanted me to.
She’s avoiding it like the plague,
I can feel it between the lines
And at the base of my imagination…
It prods me like a knife in the base of my stomach. ¶ 11:35 pm
If she wanted me to.
She’s avoiding it like the plague,
I can feel it between the lines
And at the base of my imagination…
It prods me like a knife in the base of my stomach. ¶ 11:35 pm
