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"The Self is no more in the mind than the wind is in the trees." -- Swami Anandakapila Saraswati
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Sapphic
by ryall Thursday, Nov 3 2011, 11:20am
international / prose/poetry / literature

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she groaned involuntarily
with raw desire
as she cast her eyes
on my crotch
completely hypnotised
i could hardly believe
what was happening;

i tried to bring her
back to some semblance
of normality
so i asked,
‘what the fuck are u looking at?’
to which she replied, ‘your leg’
i should’ve retorted, ‘which one?’
but wit had left me for the evening.

i had walked her home
to her apartment block;
ready to take my leave i said,
‘give us a hug and i’ll rub my cock all over you!’
i wasn’t known for mincing my words
but it was all levity on my part,
a joke to break the spell.

she sighed and asked where i was headed,
'Chinatown to chase a dragon
and rest my weary head
in the lap of my china doll,'
i replied; though the last part
i did not openly articulate,
my mind spoke it silently

she declined the hug
so i rubbed her on the shoulder
and bid her goodnight.

it seems it's now fashionable
for dykes to get off with guys –
it can’t last
the fear and loathing is far too strong.


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