I remember the weight of his body
Towering over me,
Ensnaring the torn mesh of my skin,
Concealing the crevices he's embedded me in.
The mass of his force,
That spark traveling through his velocity,
Littering my ability,
To resist and penetrate the vein of impalpable pleasure.
He keeps it contained,
At the bottom of the river,
Beneath the hidden plain,
Of his repressed, departed soul.
Acetic fizzed, frothing exhale,
Pirouetting through my nose.
Its toxicity starts to unfold,
And he wants me to recognize
The power of his redundant trickery
Engraved in his smirking bloodshot eye.
