The War We Make

I thrust, and as I do, I thrust, and as I do, the roars of her passion scream out into the world as if pleasure has never been known before. We’re as crude as lions confiscating time, nomads roaming the earth in these tiny flashes nothing else exists but screams, and cries, and sounds that have no words. They know what goes on in this place, those nosey neighbors they know, why do I hear these walls pounding like sirens as I thrust deeper to find the holy grail that she’s never even known existed inside of her.

As we flow, we go deeper into a silent panic as I feel her building, legs trembling, back arched, arms flailing as if erecting a statue to this knowing it needs room to breathe on its own. Is this our new normal? Can we go back and forth like this tearing our bodies down every day only to rebuild them again? Locked in a cage-like animals we consume one another’s mortal bodies like candy melting in a microwave. “Give me your earth”, she screams as I seek to fill her ocean, we flow consuming passion and time as if neither will exist tomorrow.


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