Short Lovely Things
A bug in the drawer screamed something black and it shot out of him, gun totting blind fear, conclaving fur that sprout out his head, twitching with confusion
Wrapped around each other, the corners of his mouth gave way to the lightest kind of jowls, his hands on his chest are crossed for rest but still warm, feeling his heart beat against his back.
Best buds barely dressed, there his hands rest, on only the best parts and the other curved around his slopping breast, the other’s in love for the night, happy and sleeping, wrapped around the neck of his best buds rise and fall chest.
Arms out, she screams at the towering reptile enclosed by the white curtained convention hall. No one else sees him but his presences is fixed on her face, the rest of her cold steel promising mobility but unknowingly yielding to a man smiling in the crowd at the front of the crowd before her.
Gallop and scream, all bust-at-the-seam, those water-earth caked thighs stretch and pull at his ghost-chestnut hide. Jagged blade pulled to the side, broad chest leaping forward with spittle flecked-war fly.
Im on my hands!
Hes on his hands, snap talk go-go boy, im a useless backdrop of faded glory on vinyl slik, taunted, death rag blowing in the wind, staring at this kids junk hanging upside down from his oil-black wrapped hairless asscrack.