make me

I am the right measure of love and make
I am making love
I’ve become detached to the concept of human relations and i know it well where it’s taking me.
But I’m in for a ride.

The line of her back stretches on the bed. She scratches a page of his mind. A sip of the half full bottle of last night’s wine.
Its easy to fall inlove with white and black sheets. Difficult to leave, but they stink if you don’t .

I anticipate the neighbour’s frowns. And compassion. And seduction.

I need a new bruise.