By Frank Weber
Copyright ©2024
Her flesh is made of
sinful thoughts and
her lips are her invitation
her cheeky curves hold all he needs
in squeezing handfuls under
dim-watt bulb lighting
glowing down through
her silky-darkened hair
there is no right so
there can be no wrong in
flesh and sin and
lips and a tongue that
whispers her invitation and
his blinded starving thirsting
blood begins its boil and
laps all of her
up into his mouth
as though he hasn’t
eaten in years
her other is distant and
his other is far off too
both others are still at home
waiting in that knowing
naïve haze of denial
his other and her other
same as same and same as same
‘cause they’re both still there
‘cause they’re both still waiting and
they’re both still watching the lonely
candle burn and slowly drip its wax
hearing the seconds tick off
from the clock up above but
these are different arms and
they are those insane arms and
they hold that precious
parcel of insanity
that they both so desperately crave
in the savor of skin on tongue-tips
and the squeezes of that cheeky flesh
held in ravenous greedy palms
and they make the world all right
for them for now
‘cause feeling good is good enough
and tonite they hunger for all
that’s good in life
they know it can only come in moments and
they know it only dies in flashes but
feeling good is still good enough
same as same
same as same
same as same.
About Frank Weber:
Frank Weber is a freelance writer from Erie, Pennsylvania. He has been published in several print and digital magazines, local interest books and advertising campaigns as both writer and model. His work encompasses a firm conviction, a simple honesty in written word and enough of a raw edge to make people feel what they read. Website: www.frankietatts.com
Twitter: @frankietatts_
Instagram: @frankietatts
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