Sunday Morning

Erin has posted a very nice little erotic poem at Vivid, which reminded me of one of mine.

I will follow her lead, and put mine behind a cut-away tag, so you can "skip it if that kind of thing bothers you."

Sunday Morning Azaleas and snails are mating in the garden.  Newsprint rubs its dark mark on the sheets. The remains of lobster and one pink shrimp curl together on a plate. I recently read that men and women are separate, symbiotic species, the males superfluous, parasitic.  I want to ease your predacious appetite, dampen your unnecessary shoulder, taste your briny needless tail.

Comments

[Ivy]

Very cool. I like.

[Erin]

Oh, SB, it's yummy.