Waging War

Once we were fists and clothes slip and urgent at every point. I waited to taste the optic chiasm in you.

Now we are note takers, plotting what we’d do to Tania and Tim and my script says, “Suck, suckle, spit,” and yours says, “Win”.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s