byanjonborno

From brothels behind the brother's home For men(worth a whore's heart) Your lordship's denial of the worst situations lining the caverns of domesticated faith hide behind bushes of low life and heavy girth,parchment paper and the navy blue blob of darkness whispering destruction. Propagation. Dilapidation of principal fundamental technicalities of handsome donours and bottle caps worth a hundred cents. Ductility of your muse and the musings of your ductile nudity that you lie with at the end of my stories,holding my hand and everything else that you can grab under the blanket. My hair,torso,tight breasts. Don't stop. Fuming incandescent hostility reverberate through my cry. Heave. Make me. Your subordinates did it, too. So did my father. And the brother I got from him. Feathers stuck on me like the left over from the dinner on the decorated table top. Can I be your sparkling wine? I guess not. Just fragments of raw meat huddled together on your bed sheet u

Ruby Rose Of redemption striking vulnerable Burbles closer to death than Carnivorous flowers in the rose garden. Ruby Rose Of nostalgia creeping Beneath pillows on the Bed with thorns. Ruby Rose With big eyes like the Night Kissing Day breaks on the lips, Tight breasts within the familiar red Of the torn blouse Peeking from over The taupe waist. Ruby Rose And the silver nose ring tinkling With every nod; The colour of her lips stuck All over my crumbs. Ruby Rose Tearing me apart In her apartment, Stroking, Screeching, Heaving, Her hair all over her Husband's bedsheet. Ruby Rose, Her loins standing naked- Legs spread out, Her nails digging deeper Scattering like marshmallows In hot chocolate. Ruby Rose Telling tongue tales, Flesh for flesh; Her bodice pressing hard Under the round of my back, Like the air and the dust Filling my nostrils, Soaking me in. Ruby Rose Of flaming womanhood Lining her brown nipples; Putting on, Bit by bit- Th