Coffee cups, whiskey pegs, old books,. Your skin your breasts and the ridge of the ribs. Dear girl, from past, recent and distant. Stop waiting,love, you have no fear. The night has passed, the day aged to perfection. The amber evening comes slow and long. It knows you want soft touch on stiff flesh. Let it, let it, on you, around, inside you. Open your bronzed thighs and fill the world. With the aroma of your hesitant lust and want.

There was a death in my family. She takes all of us eventually. My own relatives turned upon each other like sharks. My fantasies, which often flirt with the darkness, have sprouted clawed tentacles. They slither around my ankles and tickle my inner thighs, spreading me i.