#sexualautonomy - Hello Poetry

He slips the lime out of his tumbler (now there's ***** dripping from his fingers). He touches it to my lips. I open my mouth - just enough. Alcohol and citrus skip over taste buds - green as a sharp June day. His nail grazes lightly my tongue - and I can’t bite here so I close my eyes instead. His hand (the same hand) slides around my waist. I feel him - smiling, laughing, whispering into my hair - I can't hear. All I can think about is how his knuckles are pressed (how they shift when he moves) against my skin - and that they’re still wet. He’s making small talk now with our friends. Like nothing happened. But his other hand is playing - cat-like, captivating. He's deliberately tracing circles with his thumb - around and around an imperfection in a discarded pint-glass.

0

May 25

May 25, 2026 at 4:42 PM UTC

ju

Lime

He slips the lime out of his tumbler (now there's ***** dripping from his fingers). He touches it to my lips. I open my mouth - just enough. Alcohol and citrus skip over taste buds - green as a sharp June day. His nail grazes lightly my tongue - and I can’t bite here so I close my eyes instead. His hand (the same hand) slides around my waist. I feel him - smiling, laughing, whispering into my hair - I can't hear. All I can think about is how his knuckles are pressed (how they shift when he moves) against my skin - and that they’re still wet. He’s making small talk now with our friends. Like nothing happened. But his other hand is playing - cat-like, captivating. He's deliberately tracing circles with his thumb - around and around an imperfection in a discarded pint-glass.

1

He thumbs a spark, his other hand cups loosely to protect it. I feel across my shoulders, through my hair - a sudden salt-breeze lick away the flame. The cigarette rests now, in the fractured gun of two fingers. Everything is quiet. I think that maybe I’m a little bit broken. I’m burning hot-pink. Watching an ice-lolly melt, drip, spill down his knuckles, over his palm. He draws my gaze to his face. He’s smiling, speaking, reassuring. It takes a moment for his words to crash through my silent waves - It's not about cigarettes or me smoking. You like hands. Smiling, laughing, whispering. I can't hear. I can feel his knuckles pressed gently against bare skin. Taste lime on my tongue. See his other hand - cat-like, captivating. Deliberately tracing circles with his thumb - around and around an imperfection in a discarded pint-glass. His mum asked about yesterday. He's said about heat, queued traffic. I’m describing sweet feta salad and cocktails. An inquisitive glance. I realise - I’m holding only one finger; my thumb spirals in his palm. Of course he’s already clocked it. Grinning like a Cheshire cat.

0

5d ago

May 29, 2026 at 8:09 PM UTC

ju

Smoking / Breakthrough / Playing / Holding hands

He thumbs a spark, his other hand cups loosely to protect it. I feel across my shoulders, through my hair - a sudden salt-breeze lick away the flame. The cigarette rests now, in the fractured gun of two fingers. Everything is quiet. I think that maybe I’m a little bit broken. I’m burning hot-pink. Watching an ice-lolly melt, drip, spill down his knuckles, over his palm. He draws my gaze to his face. He’s smiling, speaking, reassuring. It takes a moment for his words to crash through my silent waves - It's not about cigarettes or me smoking. You like hands. Smiling, laughing, whispering. I can't hear. I can feel his knuckles pressed gently against bare skin. Taste lime on my tongue. See his other hand - cat-like, captivating. Deliberately tracing circles with his thumb - around and around an imperfection in a discarded pint-glass. His mum asked about yesterday. He's said about heat, queued traffic. I’m describing sweet feta salad and cocktails. An inquisitive glance. I realise - I’m holding only one finger; my thumb spirals in his palm. Of course he’s already clocked it. Grinning like a Cheshire cat.

4

Цифрозависимая айфоноледи, Вы — банкомат c открытым забралом. Пошире ноги, моя миледи, Ввожу транзакцию капиталом. А ваш ебальник читает пин-коды, Работает сканер с чёрным налом. Сегодня «Праздник дружбы народов» — Трудится в тётю полк генералов. 👉 Bloch-Bauer & Adele · 2020 · Signature Privée

0

Aug 1, 2025

Aug 1, 2025 at 11:36 PM UTC

BlochBauerandAdele

♠️ Цифрозависимая айфоноледи

Цифрозависимая айфоноледи, Вы — банкомат c открытым забралом. Пошире ноги, моя миледи, Ввожу транзакцию капиталом. А ваш ебальник читает пин-коды, Работает сканер с чёрным налом. Сегодня «Праздник дружбы народов» — Трудится в тётю полк генералов. 👉 Bloch-Bauer & Adele · 2020 · Signature Privée

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