death is a bus ride down the lost highway to the last diner in the bad part of town all you want is a slice of pie but the waitress just pours old coffee while the fry cook scratches himself with the spatula now you’re left with the option of paying the bill for a […]
her smile fleeting like a shooting star caught in the corner of your eye during a sandstorm i wonder if that is what the dinosaurs saw before the earth was covered in dust another crumb fallen to the carpet of her languid regret only to be vacuumed up
it seems like a cliche to say she spread herself for me like a flower in bloom that i circled her blossom like a bee in need of pollen but as i gently explored every inch of her with tongue teeth and fingers i was far too busy to think of metaphors her moans of […]
Mike's Manic Word Depot 