The creases of your body are sublime.
I want them. I want you.
Smell my need for your thickness.
I want your moan inside my lips.
I need this. I need you.
manifesto…
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
— Wendell Berry —
encore…
I love to watch you touch yourself,
on rainy afternoons.
The wandering hands.
The soft little moans.
Hips twitching.
Wet fingers fucking.
A solo show,
performed for one.
— Michael Faudet —
we dance round in a ring and suppose…
L
L
L
but the secret
sits in the middle
and knows.L
L
— Robert Frost —