Asghar Abbas's Blog - Posts Tagged "carliion"
Carne Populi
I don't want to wait any longer, I need those colors now, but since I can't have the stolen colors ever again, I'd want something else all together. I've thought about it and I really want those colors. Still. I'll settle for this. I'll surprise you by not surprising you.
I want to kiss you, you know that right ? I do ; somewhere between your reality and my fiction but mostly just in your reality.
Somewhere in my fiction you are already kissing me hungrily, but when did I allow you to do that ? I know you have been wanting to kiss me for some time now, you have been thinking about it a lot and even writing about it. Though you are not even a Writer. But it's different when you want to, when you are the one yearning it is a different thing, right? Then what I want goes out the window, and my consent doesn't matter.
Oddly enough, I've been missing you, wanting to be inside you. I really miss wanting to do things to you. For you make me feel good about the things I do to you.
It's like I'm on a verge of losing, myself or even your colors.
So.
Put me in your mouth.
Swallow me please.
And then swallow me whole.
Shh, stay keeping sitting, keep me pinned, don't move, the inside of my wrists under the soles of your feet; my soul under yours and your softness on me.
Your whole weight, you astride, is making me real, keep going.
I am truly sorry but I'll never doubt your pinkness ever again.
It's real now, isn't it?
Nice, warm, accessible, and real; your need.
Show me.
But remember this; at its peak the Moon was mine.
I want to kiss you, you know that right ? I do ; somewhere between your reality and my fiction but mostly just in your reality.
Somewhere in my fiction you are already kissing me hungrily, but when did I allow you to do that ? I know you have been wanting to kiss me for some time now, you have been thinking about it a lot and even writing about it. Though you are not even a Writer. But it's different when you want to, when you are the one yearning it is a different thing, right? Then what I want goes out the window, and my consent doesn't matter.
Oddly enough, I've been missing you, wanting to be inside you. I really miss wanting to do things to you. For you make me feel good about the things I do to you.
It's like I'm on a verge of losing, myself or even your colors.
So.
Put me in your mouth.
Swallow me please.
And then swallow me whole.
Shh, stay keeping sitting, keep me pinned, don't move, the inside of my wrists under the soles of your feet; my soul under yours and your softness on me.
Your whole weight, you astride, is making me real, keep going.
I am truly sorry but I'll never doubt your pinkness ever again.
It's real now, isn't it?
Nice, warm, accessible, and real; your need.
Show me.
But remember this; at its peak the Moon was mine.
