Saturday, December 11, 2010

uncooked cherry pie

the thought of cherry pie made his mouth water
unattractive, gobs of spit that he let freely fall
his dehydration showed in that thick mucus of spit

he was amazed at how sweet it tasted
the skin like undercooked pie crust
soft, pliable, and white

he saved the best for last
and with the encouragement of her moans
equal to that of a roar of applause
he ate until his heart was full

again and again
she came [to him]
in his dreams he ran salivating down a narrow hallway
no matter how hard he tried
he could never run fast enough to reach that sweet
cherry pie

all day long he thought of her creamy, soft thighs
he came again to uncooked pie

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