He approached me and instincts told me
to kneel and lay back first. Crawling
on top of me we attacked each other in between two graves. Bringing a blanket from my trunk didn’t cross my
vodka’d consciousness. Wet, painful and
rough sex facilitated our bodies to end up in front of a tall tombstone. Then a stumpy one, then one underfoot, grey
and decrepit. My ass and back burned as
I flipped over and shoved him to the bottom.
If
I ride him someone might see us.
Buttons ripped and underwear became fossilized
beneath loved ones’ corpses. I remembered
driving by the graveyard as a kid, now our temporary mattress. My moistened hair massaged itself in the
brown grass and Jack bore into me with a pointed force. He already flipped me back over. Our mouths opened
as if to scream silently, or scream out kiss
me.
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