Posted on October 29, 2008 at 12:45pm
It happened like happenstance.
Inhabiting the unease of a morrow called Monday
I set about suturing my psyche with vine of honeysuckle.
Stained with the scent, I sought sustenance of the organ-less kind.
Eyes, I felt, upon me.
Looking up, his not-from-here tongue drew me away from lonely avenue.
Accepting his pheromonal verbs unleashed a womanliness buried
under multiple hoods.
Still, when he said he’d find me, I… Continue