a loving figure at the base
caress the appendages
black patent, of course. of course, nylon seams with cuban heel.
on her right ankle she wore a rusty manacle to which
was attached a rusty chain – joining her to the aether, of course.
she fell backwards on the bed – the chain clanked on the black linoleum floor. the only think she was wearing were sheer black panties – her cunt lips were pouty. i played with my clitoris – good words. good words. blood is sperm ya know.”)
the waiting is the worst part
so much more painful
than anything she ever gave to her
back in time
away from time
on each side of her head, sea creatures whispered into her ear
slowly she opened her legs wide
fingered her purple wet labia
and counted the stars that dropped out of the cervix.
a whisper. many tiny voices under her breath.
the observers thought about her anatomy as their lips quivered
and the unattainable was further out now.
a single perfectly clear rivulet of moisture dribbled down and barely moistened the top
of her stocking. she licked the glass and vomited smoke. rebuilding dreams that
they held jealously. she forced their submission in a perverted vision.
Grafts are frequently used
well preserved skin slices and slurping as though she was enjoying
drinks from the wound and thrusts
Most starting to drive her crazy with
her heart rate slowed to match
Tears above the stocking tops. but not quite a huge orgasm
She remembered back to the transplanted skin
Video – crippled nostalgia for a certain time and place
Dreaming of death valley
By Peter Marra