i think so.
the other night i was with a young lady who kept saying
i would do my thing and she would say
okay now even softer.
i was all, but im barely touching.
she said youre almost there.
soon i wasnt moving.
she arched her back and reached up behind my neck with both hands and said
and dragged her teeth down my side
pearly whites on the peachfuzz of my skin
not even the skin.
then lower and she said watch me be softer and her tounge led the way followed by the firehouse red lipstick and they both sank beneath the blankets
i could barely feel
the velvets vu scratchy popped now and then on the turntable. somewhere a clock ticked.
somewhere time stopped.
and just then i could feel.
the blankets moved purposely
lit only by the moonlight sliding through the slits in the venetians
after a while she emerged and attacked my mouth with hers and bit and said
thats a boy.
then she grazed her lips against my cheek
and said, thats my boy.
took her pointy finger and dragged it across the goosebumps on my back, crawled off, slipped on her satin
marched to the kitchen
returned with some props.
and suddenly i found myself involved in a pop quiz.