Tags
conversations with imaginary sisters, cunnilingus, erotic poetry, poem, Poetry, quake's fault, sonnet, you squirt up earthquakes
Super lewd stretch time. Thicc new aches, shapes, quakes.
Thicc knew. Ache knew. Quake knew what you wanted.
Me? I didn’t. I never do. I traipse.
I tramp. I walk out. I am undaunted
funeral crap. I go. Soiled comforters. Shite
water. I went. I brought the shadow’s back
and leg and tongue for you. The right in, “fright.”
The hack in, “whack.” Sucka MC. But first: flashback!
“Super lewd stretch time. Thicc new” – No, not that.
Quake knew, stretch pants. Quake knew. No, nay never
forgive Quake. Never. Me? I never – Who?
Not once in a year of Mondays. Cocked Hat?
Not once? Not once did it go – Whatever.
Do be do be do. Do be do be do.
memories of my ghost sista 