"She touches the skies when she breathes. She holds me when I come undone."
It’s not how she movesIt’s not how she touches the sky when she breathesIt’s not in her smile, not in her snarlIt’s just how she isIt’s not how she waitsHow she remembers how to be lateIt’s not how she forgets,...
"Dawn arrives with your thighs framing my face, your cunt painting my mouth slick."
It’s not that I don’t sleep, it’s how I sleep, how I dream. What I dream.You consume me, and I don’t know why you feel so close in that liminal space between dream and the suspension of—no, not consciousness, but...
"It took twenty-four days to unravel. One to arrive."
I looked at her the way I always did every last Friday of the month, when payday beers had turned warm in my blood, and it was time to watch her walk the opposite direction from O’Malley’s.“You alright?” I asked...
"When the desert tried to reclaim itself, she pushed back—heat too intense to intrude, truth too fierce to hide."
I grinned to myself, watching her stretched against the stupid restraints, head hanging, tits still catching the tremor still riding her body, twitching here, pulling there. Her breath, begging over her almost ruin.What do you call a ruined ruin?I think...
"“Her mistake was stalling in front of the mirror — the only witness to the truths she leaked while still trying to deny them."
She was arched like a fucking bow. Fingertips soaked. Fucking herself hard enough to slap sound off the walls. Slick, loud, desperate.Not rhythm, not grace—just pure, ragged need.Her forehead dragged against the mirror. Her breath fogged a wide bloom across...
"That wasn’t sweat leaking down her spine—it was the first flicker of knowing she was going to be fucked, whether she wanted to admit it or not."
Some habits are so ingrained in people that you could easily label them as compulsions. I was halfway through my routine when she arrived—slightly flustered, barely exchanging looks, smiles, or words with anyone. Determined.Still, it was enough for me to...