Put your hands on my knees,
she said,
and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read.
—Michael Faudet—
50 words for snow…
You called and shouted and burst my deafness. You flashed, shone, and scattered my blindness. You breathed odors, and I drew in breath and panted for You. I tasted, and I hunger and thirst. You touched me,
and I burned for Your peace.
― Augustine of Hippo ―
singin’ away my blues…
her way…
Had she her way,
she would lick the lengths of love with ardent suck.
She would lie, silken breasts spilling to the side
reaching back
and pull him down on her
Hard.
Arching, lifting her ass so he could spread her fuck-hungry folds with heated, throbbing shaft.
She would let him pound her.
Each cry a soft, urgent
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
This she would do (and more), only if she had her way.
– Lola Moi –
