Tuesday, 29 September 2015

The morning breaks in showers I guess

In silent foothills stands the man of my conscious, my pace is unmarked and clumsy, frozen I struggle with indecision.

I am told of the libido inhibiting effects of the pill and in thin white lace, behind flickering, semi conscious eye lids, I undress.

As I hear no words I remain as uncomfort, I struggle to focus on reality, my mind drifts to unconscious sex and I am aware that I am crude and with parts.  A constant demand to rebuke myself is part of this contesting pace, set within these frameworks of desire and submission, of control and excess.  I acknowledge my own revulsion and do not explore further.

Upon reflection I glance behind me, and watch man stride confidently across foothills as i remain forever captivated at the dancing waves on rock edge below.

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