Green tail from the garden's shell abandoned snail
Creeping up the gentle, brown xylophone of my back
I hold her head to my weakened pipe as I leak into her mouth
Scared the salt I taste is from my own tears, I realize I haven't cried in years
She drinks all of me, every detail. Strong a woman as I am
The pressure of her tongue makes me feel like a fragile female.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC