In the Blood
Under her heavy sheets, She sleeps with skin bare, Body curled and unfurling, My rose in bloom, Her lips wet with tongue.
She moans in her sleep. I quiver, she must know. Her soul cries out for me. My blood calls out for her.
The tip of Laura's nail teased her clit. She smiled. It cried out. She could see Marcilla, hovering over a sleeping Laura K. Her husband was gone; he was always gone. Marcilla in her nightgown, or perhaps pale and nude before her prey.
I don't wait again, As Laura wouldn't do for me. Were she to want me, She would take me, As I must her now.
Time swings heavy between us, Measured by her thick breaths Against the thin dance Along her exposed neck.
