La Dépendance Secrète Que Je-

It’s in the words.

This dream confused me.

For the life of me, I can’t let it be.

Our stomachs pressed together.

Dur et doux.

Why would that stick out to me?

Why should I be turned on by your stomach against my own?

My heart was racing, thighs and panties wet,

Ready to be your pet.

It was then I paid attention.

You whispered words in my ear.

Non-stop words.

Nonsensical, fast, slow, words.

With every word you spoke,

My mouth watered.

My skin pulsed.

My eyes dilated.

I wish I could remember the words you said to me.

I wish I could hold them close for the lonely nights.

I wish I could carry them with me like I do my sight.

It was the words.

The words.

Words.

-NR

 

 

 

 

A Vise Like Grip

Night falls, and she feels awakened.
The goddess yawns and stretches.
The start of her day is here.

She looks for the weak,
The innocent minded,
The mentally insane.
Those are her comrades for the night.

She breathes in the fresh piss-scented air.
She laughs joyously upon hearing the sounds
Of debauchery, and whispered dares.

“Je veux baiser!” she yells through the alleyways.
“Je veux le chaos!” she screams to anyone who will listen.

She cried for an angel,
But received a demon.
And for that she will have her vengeance.

-N