Slow, thickly fingers withdraw. Dabbing at the damp earthy texture, they leave imprints in the pimpled limb.
Fingertips dip into tepid liquids, cooling themselves. They shake off the excess and go to dress the slowly drying surface with a glossy film, hydrating the pores and cracks – ensuing a glowing, healthy complexion.
Thick like yoghurt. Setting leisurely. It casts the imprints in its hardened crust. Ghostly shadows, evidence of the tips that caressed it. The hardened form sits boldly and prominent.
Slipping in, sliding over, pulling tight. Slinky. Thick and creamy.
Rubber rubs against glass.
Cold steel runs its finger along the spine. Teeth biting one by one, inch by inch.
Stretched. Taut, concealing, controlling, sustaining, shaping.
Round flesh hardens, protrudes, ghostly angelic. Bold yet tender. Accentuating the flatness, glorifying the pimpling protrusion.
Roughage of lambs wool fibres, entwined, lovingly bound and secured by strong hands.
Chaffing. Flesh rising with friction, resting with warmth. Redness ensuing, blotches, forming islands – drifting upon a sandy sea. Buoyant, glowing – the ready skin plumped with blood. Trapping heat.
Dusted with fawn freckles. A pattern forming. The rotary pile, soft and subtle, darkened at the edges. Concentric circles barely seen in the flashes of day-glow bulbs.
Flicks of blonde, ash, honey, treacle, mustard, hazelnut, ganache. Shiny seductive curls tumble over each other wildly. Glimpses of glassy brown eyes. A well nourished coiffure, a high gloss life.
Chiffon mousse, light as air, stained with scent. Noting undertones of sweet milk.
Sashaying; boom, bam, boom, bam. Thrills, rushes of heat, and heavy thumps evolve and consume. Gleaming golden limbs, hard, yet smooth like butter. Warm grease, melting. Seeps. Running in rivulets over a heavily pock marked crust.
Pectorals prickle and wince. In a rhythmic flow from left to right.
Swipe, swipe, swipe. A glory hole, the boring, the long, lost and weary. Shifting through a murky dreamscape, a sea of fog, steaming our vision. A residue recedes. Rituals slip into the dark dank coffins of collapsed routines.
50 Strokes. Unfaltering, intense, continuous gaze. Empty, yet committed. Deeply desired, yearning for future visions. 1 poke. Forever Young.
Stricken. Breath pulled in, beats quicken, a gentle tug. Saliva pools in the gully of the mouth. A pulsing moist body shimmies against cool unexpectant lips.
Taste buds drenched in Pernod Pastis. Ice rattles, slurring in and out of shape and form, caressing sweet liqueur.
Sliding out, tugging loose. Syrupy and sweet. J’Adore.
Shiny top, with pools of glistening oil, rebelling against the milky liquid, dancing gaily around the dish. Buoyant.
Thick bands like rubber, stretch and curl around their cousins, sisters, fathers and mothers. Warm and relaxed, as if bathing in amniotic fluids.
Sediments rest, lowly and undisturbed. The shadows speckle the sediment bed. A shard plummets through the fluid, stirring, unresting, upsetting and provoking the piles, creating tiny veins from base to surface. Flirtatious, dradle like tornadoes consume and glean more pieces as they twist and turn.
The bands pulled upwards, leaving their tails barely covered by the liquid, exposing their fleshy skins, air drying in seconds, droplets flick from the sopping ends, spraying their scent.
soft fluid waves of air brush minute caring hairs which shield fore limbs
air is thick with stains of the mornings work
it sweeps the floor with a tender stroke
dancing with queerness
jesting and prancing gaily
enveloping sandy masses, teasing them into the rhythmic pirouette
spinning like a cradle on unsteady ground
dust peppers our wine and water
a seasoning sets down quietly across the glass surface
As it pounded, the flaccidity of the flesh was exemplified. A faint glimmer aired the ruddy flesh in its true colour. As if laid upon a membrane mattress she sunk into the avocado towelling. Loops of cotton caressing the barely there whispers of hair, that grew in shades of Austrian blonde, gathering thicker on flat areas of loin and becoming ever more prominent once reaching solid curvatures of her joints. Across her pubis the hair curled, like an artex ceiling, with solid definitive growth direction, with soft, but almost rebellious waifs and strays infringing this pattern. Lips the colour of velvet curtains hung in Shakespeare’s globe, bitten red. Fatty lipids, hot and slightly swollen, pulsating from the tension. Causing a plumped up appearance to the skin, a roundness, reminiscent of a babes corpulent folds between the calf and thigh.
White, upright but crooked. Long hardy stems, with woody roots and curved, slowly formed tips. Upwards, outwards, reaching. Gnarly fingers, with tips like witches toes. Albino and obscure. Albino, alfresco, jello. Set in jelly. Or stood in jars.
Smoky landscapes struck by shards of electric jarring galactic pink, angular projections visible through negative human spaces. Energies simmering under a cloak of dew and balmy heights.
Fleeting passes of cosmic constellations, muddled hues hang in the humid air, disco freaks and beats pulse against surges of bass and heat.
She suckled on the wedge of lime that accompanied her Bahia Breeze. The blazing heat had caused her chest to tingle under the anticipation of sweat, she was not usually one to wait by the bar, but she didn’t feel inclined to engross her slender toes into the granular ocean. She remained seated under the fervour sun, with her bare feet demurely rested against the cool metal rung of her stool.
She began to feel intoxicated as the comforting warmth of golden tequila glided down her throat; she worried that perhaps she would be intoxicated when he arrived. This thought dispersed when she became distracted by the Chamaerops humilis’ fanned leaf, it softly vibrated; she awaited the tender breeze, allowing it to wash over her like the caress of a silk negligee on bare skin. The momentary relief from the heat pleased her, she dabbed at the dewy moisture that had collected between her breasts.