vos lèvres

thin and cold

red where i bit them

the whisker burn on my chin

your grip around the small of my back

tightens like a snake while wet drunken bitter blood tinged lips suckle the wilderness from mine

Dionaea muscipula

flowers are nice but i didn’t get them often the guys i dated weren’t romantic i guess it’s ok i get me flowers now and again i do love a good road trip and the feel of wind in my hair i’ve never been one to lend herself to tight long hugs it frightens me or when i got to like it they left me its best to kiss first wham bam thank you man and then run away forever i love a nice juicy philosophical conversation or if i could find someone like Tesla i admit that it gets tricky when lust calls but he wants a commitment and i’m not prepared to fold so i’ll walk and i’ll think i’ll paint and i’ll stall i’ll fly and i’ll land in his nest when he is vulnerable

zenith

chaos in our blood

sunrise joins our hungry mouths

zen entwines our flesh