Ruby Isabel Sandoval > Writing | WritersCafe.org

Grass thigh highs licking up our legs sharp and tickling. Caroline blows bubbles like butterflies perching on blades before bursting.

Skin that smelled like apricots on a hot day. I wish I'd never tasted it. Then I would not crave, with lips dripping, the sullen tarte. Salivating..

Red is the anger I held for you After you kissed that drunk girl At your party, behind my back. Red as her two dollar lipstick Bleeding, smearing..

The Vanilla hurt of boy just barely Learning where to press their little Pricks, it isn’t enough. It never was Instead, I a..

My tongue traces over the perfect circle scar On your hard stomach I graze your skin with my teeth… playfully I raise my self to your eag..

We spent sun burnt summer On your old porch leaning Against the brick of your new House. My attraction to you As red as the inside of your Warm m..

Guava tree By the empty chicken coop Peeking through a stack Of rust eaten cages, I push my palms to the trunk. We remember Uncle Andy Sitting u..

Nights of teetering on the edge And watching wine stain Through the sheets with more vigor Than our stale eyes could Express. Her collarbone..

With underdog statistics and a heavy hand I slapped the freckled skin of her A*s cheek. Wincing at the iron taste of pride She arched her backside ..

Your black work shirt That’s torn at the collar and Smattered with paint, with The hem that falls past my cold Thighs,..