jayivan

Sunday, November 4, 2012

a face of smoke with powdered lips
wafts through the lights,
a sight abliss

posted by jayivan at 7:13 pm  

Sunday, November 4, 2012

the storm returns thirst:
for the hip-swayed and pill-popped,
for sex with strangers,

for the pleasure domes:
swollen cocks pressed tight in jeans,
gray matter synapse,

each seeking relief

from urban dunes breeched.

posted by jayivan at 4:33 pm  

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