Rough, Raw, Righteous Tongue presses deep—not a kiss, but conquest,a moan muffled in the mouth,a gasp stolen before it can rise. Fingers probe my moistness—not gentle, but knowing,with relentless intent,mapping every slick secret. My wrists pinned overhead—you are gravity,I am undone.Each breath...

I love living a life in this inkpenning my words up to the brinkthe very edge of every pagecrafting poems salient and sage Burn my candle down to its wickwhile I pen within inks ever thickall across these thinnest of...