— PLATE XVII —
warm sun unbothered by this dry rot. Grovel offspring. Sinned beast. Lossy image. Faded pommel,
— PLATE XVIII —
slippery and fine. This goes on like this for some time still. More venom. Still it reaches you barely. In
— PLATE XIX —
this dodging act, the part is untold and uniquely yours, rile on - once and again still. Whatever happened
— PLATE XX —
to looking outward in? Would it lessen the flow secreting anymore so? It may be you find me too wasted.
— PLATE XXI —
So i crow still more. Until it is a tired state that lulls me back into the mattress. Where the cruel limb lays
— PLATE XXII —
pummeled and my breath wanes down to some rhythm i cannot muster awake, something plain and
— PLATE XXIII —
regular. Opening up my body to yours, for it is yours alone in sleep that I become. That you take and
— PLATE XXIV —
oss, turning me over into something defined. I circle purpose when my lids finally shut and the eyes i
— PLATE XXV —
ruin on the shape you make find more pleasure in stary lights that rush past me, arresting sight. I can
— PLATE XXVI —
ignore the lengthy stare you spill into my body at rest, before you decide after due pause, to rouse your
— PLATE XXVII —
gut and find warmth in this jostling cadence once more again. Enraptured up to a point by lacing arms
— PLATE XXVIII —
and tendril fingers, that prod the softness away from the grit and luster from the dirt, seamlessly so -
— PLATE XXIX —
away from you, unto you. And my reach is deep and strong. Holler out i do not let go so easily, and
— PLATE XXX —
because you have taken already - it is my turn. The beading sweat only clenches your restraint further.
— PLATE XXXI —
And it is then, in this manner, that we dream alike. For nights unearthed that prey silence with eerie
— PLATE XXXII —
efficiency, so much so you might wonder why we stay like this, could it be patience? some unfortunate
