(THE SWEETNESS OF KNOWING THE BEAST)
THE SOUND SO
What would thou have I speak of?
What if I were to speak of the texture of thy nipple... How it grows firm between mine finger tips.
On mine lips.
I describing them find myself digressing into other things.
That particular stance thou hast.
That particular sigh that makes the blood flow strong to mine manhood.
Makes it stand strong as if trying to see into thine insides as thee takes it to the back of thy throat and lets it fall out from between thine full lips.
Spit on it and repeat the exquisite torture.
I standing on mine toes.
Beast captured in thine eyes as thou lookest up at I.
I mean... What if I spoke of the moment when I layest thou back and kiss thine full lips.
Legs pushed back to the bed as thou wiggle, squirm, grab mine head and try to pull me in... Try to push me away.
Thine juice staining the sheets.
The instant when I stand and place the anvil of my hammer against the hold of thine keep and tear down the walls.
Claim the territories as mine that you spread and wet have bequeathed unto I the beast.
I who came in so savagely, swayed and slayed in the deliciousness of thee.
As I speak.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
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