Ascent

A woman sitting on a chair, naked. Her legs are open, showing you her hand on her cunt.

I am looking for something,

and it keeps leaving

little caresses,

shivers, 

for me to find.

It is elusive, 

gradual,

but I think I am catching up with it, 

propelled at moments

with warp-like speed 

through long dark corridors.

It is hiding beneath muted colours

and it’s tail sweeps long,

catching my breath with its

feather-like touch.

I can see it, I can see it,

and we rise on a spiral staircase.

Each turn a little higher than

the next.

I am chasing it now,

up, up,

but not too fast.

And suddenly, it stops

and I am smack, bang,

in the middle of it, and

the colours,

are no longer muted.

Sinful Sunday


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