Sucking eastern wounds- feeling.
Death doctors dealing.
She slides in, taking foot and hold and grasps of skin. Contact.
I'm drowning.
Her need a constant squealing.
Bruised depths need shielding.
My boundaries need squaring.
Odd knots and shadowed tangles that shoe horn me through the day.
Levelled off .
She gravels in clutching old cuts of flaps in hackled skin.
Churned til I am leathered and bristled by the contact.
The Molten feed-ism; her shriek blasting need-ism.
I am turned slave.Her load a pricely tax .
The heavy feed; that I should tote what you won't carry?
Sucking on my seed-dream?.
Sucking on my seed-dream?.
No Ms! I won't be your wasted vassal state.
MB
