Laughing Medusas

When I write, it's everything that we don't know we can be that is written out of me, without exclusions, without stipulation, and everything we will be calls us to the unflagging, intoxicating, unappeasable search for love. In one another we will never be lacking. ~Helene Cixous "The Laugh of the Medusa"

Thursday, June 10, 2004

Two Dirty Girls, One Dirty Bar 

You're not looking for love
Not in this part of town
You're hoping for a bit of action
A well worth it one night stand

I see you beside the counter
Surveying this seedy bar
Thinking I could go for that
Two dirty girls in a dirty bar

You buy two shots and give me one
Saying "Hey there, what's your name?"
The other girls are watching now
To see how well I'll play your game

I drink what you bought, smile and ask
"Do you really want to know?"
You take your shot, then my hand
"Come to think of it, no."

I follow you through the dirty bar
To the dirty alley on the side
No words, no kisses, no kind gestures
Just dirty fingers deep inside

I wasn't looking for love, you know
Not in this part of town
I came looking for a dirty girl
And come while this dirty girl goes down

posted  @ 10:05 PM

My Present to You 

Moments from sleep, I shift for comfort and feel the gentle touch of a woman's hand against my thigh. In the haze of almost asleep I don't attempt to rationalize or understand the soft caress across my skin.

Another hand strokes my breast, just when I desire it, just where I like it. Strong fingers pinch my nipple. Delicate fingers dance up my inner thigh. Teasing fingers flick my clit. Forceful fingers delve inside me, two then one, then two again. One long middle finger rubs my clit, in little circles and I start to moan. The hand from my breast, runs through my hair, tugging just a bit.

I roll to my stomach and grind my hips on the hand that's pressing against my pubic bone, with fingers that massage my clit and occasionally slide deep inside my wet pussy. The other hand grips the pillow beneath my head as my moans evolve into screams.

My muscles tense, my toes curl, my hips buck and as I revel in the pleasure... my hand leaves my thighs in search of my mouth.

posted  @ 9:54 PM

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

inside me 

i see you there
on the outside
tapping at my glass
hands cupped
in hopes
that you will see

inside me

the metaphorical
however intimately
with the literal
is still

inside me

lowering walls
i hide in the fog
amidst the mist

my breasts damp
with sweat and condensation
my thighs moist
with anticipation

can you find your way
through the smoke screens
the labyrinth of my soul

can you find the path
i've paved for you
without a map

can you feel your way

deep inside me

posted  @ 3:22 PM


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Lane Bryant