Virgin LostA Poem by flauxxual
In the dim afterglow of the fluorescent tubes latticed into the ceiling of your apartment -
I can see, almost smell your silhouette plastered on the drapes. As I sneak up behind you your sad inferiority, conceivable only by the way you hold your glass with both hands, slaps me in the face. You lie, starry eyed and ignoring the stains all down the front of your dress, you smile and wink, I'm disgusted. The fact you lavish the feeling of appearing flawlessly innocent despite the disparity inside you makes me livid, unseductable. Yet you'll try, not phased, stopping only when my time is up and your drivers beeped twice so you know it's safe to venture home. No more and never again will I taste your essence and view you nude, cross-legged on the floor. So i retreat, barely breathing. I feel paralyzed by the crushing sensation of this new found morality of which I feel so far away from. Your cheap porcelain sink offers little to zero salvation as the contents of our fast food first date disappear down the drain. The warm hard water can not wash away the way you said "that was amazing" nor the fact you eyes lacked any amazement whatsoever. And so, in a strange bathroom on the other side of town, I slept shirtless, filthy and confused. Drifting into dream state, I can still hear the ecstatic cries brought forward only by the moment when lust and anticipation come together full force in a sexual crescendo. I can feel it all around me, as sheep pay sacrilege to the naked wolves of the Chicago underground. I am gone, staring off into the lunar reminder that morning will surely come, and that try as I might, I can't seem to run from what I've become. © 2012 flauxxualReviews
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1 Review Added on June 22, 2012 Last Updated on June 22, 2012 Author
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