its potential demise

It started with the word tickle and went from there. It claims that lust calls to it, with a sensual greed. I have a great many lewd things to skin upon it; but it gets incensed if it’s interrupted, more fervent as it takes its way. It made wet smacking sounds with its lips and I try to copy it, standing alone in the dark in front of the bay window. As long as it can tell me as much as it can about what it does when it’s alone in this room, I wouldn’t mind ignoring it altogether. The window is all smudged with oils and I quietly feel curious.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: