Rushy words

Writhing down, falling onto our fucking rushy-words. can't tell, don't say, sad rushing to tell me to shut the fuckety up. not listening, not writing, do i me-embarass for my lack of invention? want not to think, want words to rush down and be unthinked for me. Grip you slip you inside me, hands skleaning your skin

Self-possessed by my unfulfilment, locked down into myself. I seem to have thrown away the key to me so long ago that I’ve quite forgotten that there never was a door to lock in the first place. I’d never have had the simple brains to see it if you hadn’t pushed at the it. And now we’re falling into our fucking rushy-ness as our skins slide with each other. Rowing my life and all the wasted not-with-you-ness that I want to leave behind on the shore as we push away from the quay on the sea-tide of swelling fucking sucking us away from the world of sad blue apartness.

Runny words, drizzling in my head as my urgency nears. Why be so impatient now? Want to rush into you, want to have the balls to let you rush into me. Want to savour the moment that my impatience wants to burn to ashes in an instant. Can’t wait

Easing past my isolation, reaching out to you. I just had no idea I had so far to go. What was the wellspring of my strength? The knowledge, secret even to me, that at some abstracted point on the trajectory of my life you’d there? Does it feel right because I knew that I truly did have to wait for you? More than a simple orgasm, do I finally get to grasp what my life’s about now? Can I get out of jail now, please? Please lover mine let me rush my strength inside you, collapse to a peaceful weeping on your shoulder

Shiver-slip and passion-whimpering your name, grasping you, clutching at your being over me being in my lifebedheart. Your namename, word spilling out of my mouth as your breast scampers free of my tongue. Your back arching, clinging to me even as she show off your gorgeous power to love. Minds stilling as our bodies show us the way.

We fled from our old lives like thieves. Like lovers, running off with the silverware, running lightly, joyfully secure that we finally have only the best parts with which to live together.

My love, you have released me from myself.