Tuesday, April 28, 2015

The Flutist

Today, I found Bunny, who said faeries will arise with the blow of my husband's breath...
Warming under garments expose to the tickling friction of soft lips;
a combustible vibrato pattering down in tangy laps,
how it howls the name of dignity, integrity, and song self-pro-loined,
outstretched by racks of jasmine petals
twined gently around the softest thigh, making time.
A hum of gaining pleasure to lift and sway;
translucent vestibule,
orb dominated by the sound of fluttery melody.

- Jessica M. Wilson

Green House Smoke Shop inspired

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