August 2011
13 posts
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Beneath my hands your small breasts are the upturned bellies of breathing fallen sparrows. Wherever you move I hear the sounds of closing wings of falling wings. I am speechless because you have fallen beside me because your eyelashes are the spines of tiny fragile animals.
I dread the time when your mouth begins to call me hunter. When you call me close to tell me your body is not beautiful I...
