The Piecemeal Man (abmann) wrote,
The Piecemeal Man

  • Mood:

Blah vbah fiction blah blah

I was sunk the moment I existed for her. In blackened alleys where we violated time, I gave up everything I knew of sanity.
She offered her world in cadenced pleas not to stop I listened only as far as I dared. Screaming release and I drop her hard onto cardboard and newspaper.

She was afraid. I was torrid. In bars where night is king and drinks are cheap - sex is the only casualty. Her existence is a vacuum of meaning. Sidestepping the morning, I descended upon her fire.
I had to have her eyes.
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