I catch whimpers
Delicate canopy of furious nerves
Demands
The juice of humble compliment
Gentler than my bed’s pillow
Rituals of such pleasures
Catch whimpers
Dualistic people,
Fissures the day with thoughts of sin.
Slight surgeon
Stabbing cement eyes.
Bowed on thin loins, as we crave
Cries to eviscerate
Hot Belly.
Chapped ruby mouth
Experience is the same.
Detaching, craven
Skin and latex from their interest
Acting wounded
Mounting sloth of winter’s whistle
Frail chalk.
White cock.
Cold bed.
Frail chalk fingers gently stroke
Manifest in several sorrows
I Cannot speak.
Shadows shake the linens as he hums
Plain notes
Laze around from the attention
Doubtful queasiness commencing natural signals.
Lingering behind
I can not Comprehend which way to lean
The frozen window influences the intention.