arrow to the knee

i cried the whole day
between flashes of big cock
and rubbing my mouth against
his enormous bulge in those tight red boxers
i cried thinking of lovely conversations and lively
sweet exhilarating kisses and your laugh
the way he could not laugh
play like a seasoned man
and not a prickly boy

poetry

this is tortuous
willing myself not to talk to you
about crying or rose wine or last night's boy
or anything at all

my red finger marked ass

your monster hands are eating me
strong green monster eyes
eating me alive
every time
i look
down

alone in the kitchen

crying over the zucchini
crying over the mango
crying over the watercress