Thursday, 16 July 2015

Dancing in ghosts

The noises you make are inhuman. They're animal and raw. They are sing song. Mauling expressions of loss and pleasure. Ebb away. Bleed out. Empty yourself inside me.

The pressure of your body against me. The pleasure of it all. That poignant bliss. Dancing in ghosts. Moving together. Hold me until it stops, just hold me. 

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