serena azure rae..

Serena was drowning in agony. Painting the roses red, she tossed and hunched over
tightening her arms and hands around her waist wishing she could just rip this organ out of her body so shed never have to hurt like this again.
bent over she smashed her head into a pillow in her lap and let out an agonizing whine.
she knew Rae would be pissed yet she didn't care. one of the problems of being a lesbian was their painters started arriving at the same time. creating an atmosphere of war hot passions and needs.
Rae was the quiet sulkier. she would sit around coffee mug hot and steaming with herbal tea. Bags of lays and endless bottles of tapatio were casualties. Shed turn the radio low to some cat power or Fiona Apple, Maybe some Janis or Florence if shes feeling exceptionally moody allowing the singers soulful voices to fill the air with a low hum. Rae loved silence during this time anything aggravated her into disaster. A wrong move and shed lock her self in her studio for hours nothing to prove her existence in the house but the sweet smell of weed escaping from beneath the door.
Serena however was quite the opposite. As a young girl she realized the power of her period by the way her mother babied her and let her stay home from school. she remembered wandering into her room where they would eat chocolate wrapped in each others arms watching springer. Her mother let her whine and cry at her will yet Serena had no patience and would often cut her short ending in a heated argument and a slammed door.

Reviews

[Larry Dyson]

interesting topic and emotionally deep sharing...that has Hemmingway like qualities to it...here it is ...deal with it ..paint a picture of it...exceptional ability here.. .want to read more of your stories...read my poem about her fLOW...