TW : alcohol — sex
A glass of white wine between the hands. Her skirt pulls up on her laps. She pulls down it. Leaned on the door. His mouth is becoming smile. Her red lips makes a big beautiful smile. Her glass with a fingerprint of lipstick. First step. A record cracked in the corner of the living room. First dance step. A hand on her hips. She doesn't turn. Lips on her neck. Perfume of flowers. Sweet taste on her tongue. A sip of wine, she swallows it while she laugh. It is ticked her. The beard doesn't shave off. She breathes his perfume. Eau de parfum, male and attractive. She missed him. Too much. His big hands on her hips. Her breath accelerates, like her heart whose beats harder. Lips on her shoulder. Lips on her cheek. He is here. He is real. Beard whose prickles. Glass of wine broken. Arms around his neck. Knowing smiles. Lips against lips. Mouth against mouth. Raised skirt. Hand on the lap. Red fingerprint around the mouth, red fingerprint on the mouth. She smiles. She so smiles. To fill the lack. Steps to go away from the broken glass. He take her. She dances, they dance. They turn. Turning in the dance without sens. Lips whose fill the lack. Inseparable lips. No lack, anymore. It disappears. Just one dance, just one perfume, just one touch, just one step, just one kiss. Just them.
VOUS LISEZ
Bouquet de Mots
PoetryLaboratoire textuel. Quelques poèmes. Pas mal de textes. Prose. Vers. Que des one shot. Pas vraiment de débuts ni de fins. Pas mal de « il » et d' « elle ». Beaucoup de « tu ». Pas mal d'amour, de cigarettes et de peur. Beaucoup de pensées. Flou c...
