Status Updates From Skóra

So many men and all of them the same where it counts

Iktr

The fairytale castle collapsed into the mud and sand on which it’s vanity was built

“There were glorious mornings of sun at the shore, cool evenings, holding hands in the park anticipation of the sexual choreography they would perform in every nook of her apartment. Sober as priests, creative as devils, they invented sex. So they believed.”

There’s a teardrop in my eye. My one eye. The left one.

Booker was the only person she was able to confront – which was the same as confronting herself, standing up for herself. Was she worth something? Anything

yeah man

The sun merely hinted at its rise, an apricot sliced teasing the Sky with a promise of revealing It’s whole self.

Trying to seduce your “best friends” man… Brooklyn you are one weird bitch

“Before I see his face, his arms are on my waist, my back to his chest, his chin in my hair. Then his hands are on my stomach and I am dropping mine hold onto his while we dance back to front. When the music stops I turn around and look at him he smiles. I am wet and shivering. Before I leave the park, I fingered the bristles of the shaving brush. They are soft and warm.”

sigh

“I stroked every inch of his golden skin sucked his earlobes. I know the quality of his hair and his armpit; I fingered the dimple in his upper lip; I poured a red wine in his navel and drink it spill. There’s no place on my body his lips did not turn into bolts of lightning.”

Bitch poetry 😭

Mrs Huxley what’s up w you girl