as the night chills
and the wine
burns red
I feel your lips
on my shoulder
shivers
in this lonesome
duet
just make
me forget
The Same
It’s always the same…
Him, stretched out on the couch, watching sport, touching himself.
“hello, beautiful,” as I walk in.
“tea?” I normally ask.
“come sit here, by me,” he would invite.
99% of the time, I accept, the invitation.
Then it starts.
touching
teasing
groping
kissing
kneeding
wanting
needing
untill
wet exploding
He gets up
gets dressed
and leaves
I’ve stopped asking, as the answer, irrespective, of the time of day, is always the same: “I’ve got work to do”
I’m left
staring at the ceiling
with only
ripped clothes
bruised lips
bite and scratch marks
to show
in the strange familiar house
the silence hums
long forgotten songs
to ancient tunes
when the world was new
and love was true
Staring, at the starting day, through the dark window, she tastes, the ham is off, but eats, it anyway. She really, can’t be bothered, to find something else, to eat, on the morning, of this Friday, signalling the end.
sterre
koud
kruip
die nag
sterre
glisterend
diamante
op die donker doek
winkend vir more
se sonskyn lag
met
of
sonder
jou
Madness
frantic
the rain
falls
on the plain
madly
he strokes
my silky strings
making
my body
sings
arching
in a pelvic sway
melting
wet
the tune
we play
Pictureby #adrianborda #deviantart
die aand suis
saggies
deur die swak beligte
strate
donker
en oud
soos mis
in ‘n beton oerwoud
bang en alleen
van die wereld
vervreemd
