Lilac Wine :: a warzone towards haiku

May 6, 2011

Three sick scenes for summer

Filed under: Text — Lilac @ 3:28 pm

1999. With sunny nostalgia I’m 13 again, in a t-shirt with pool-wet tousled hair, kissed on one sunburnt cheek by a bad man three times my age. It’s summer at my best friend’s dad’s house, I’m unresponsible and desired, amazed at the kisses of a strong grown man. He kissed me. He likes me.
I stared at the moon out his window as he moved his hands on his cock beside me, and thought of rotten honey, a sweetness made sick.

2011. Flesh folds around my cunt like origami, applying pressure, sandwiching my cunt between your fingertips and my popsicle-swollen belly, so I well with liquid come held in only by surface tension.

Your sweat flicks onto my back as we fuck. We go outside to cool off. Lick the sweat from my body.
I’m sick from salt from the first lick, salty as dried sea on your smooth sealskin shoulders and chest. The moon hangs all dark above us and your tongue licks over me and saltsick I come with drool spilling down my chin.


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