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Friday, April 09, 2010

Anti-Erotica I & II: A series in progress

Anti-Erotica I

You’re so red, you cunt. I spread those lips, lips like the banks of the great Red Sea. I am Moses, traveling up your interior nether world with my tongue, my tongue a sly creature riding your waves as you quiver, ebb and flow, you hot little Chickidee. Your mouth now encircling my prick, tongue gliding up and down its inner shaft, coaxing the brain of my prick to full consciousness. The prick grows long and thick, the way I love it to grow, my old Pinnochio. Inside you now, it’s so dark like a horror movie I want to get out, I scream, I can’t.

Anti-Erotica II

I wear the finest perfumes, but you have no nose. You tell me I stink, but you lost the scent of me whiskeys ago and say you don’t have the money to keep me stinking. You never noticed your nose was gone, maybe flushed it down the toilet with the whiskey.

You flush the toilet before I’ve used it. You fuck fuck fuck me with your flaccid stick and roll over. Nobody can come or go anywhere. Paralysis strikes at 4 o'clocks, old man. What do I see in you, I with no eyes?

I suck in your breath after you’ve closed your lids. Roll over. I’ll fill you with dead roses. Somehow I will.

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