back roads*

you kick up dust on the rutted road of my body.
i let you run over me, fast, like a kid in a pickup
music blaring. and i like it, your wheels rolling
hard, pushing me against the mattress, letting you
ride over me, but i will make you bottom out
'til your undercarriage shakes and trembles
for my top, my touch, 'til i flip your pickup, your wheels
spinning and the dust of this road licks
and curls around your screaming engine.


*because who doesn't need a (racy) poem on a Tuesday evening?


Also if you haven't read any good news lately, click on over to any of these places.
I also rescind MWMF related snarkiness, but am too lazy to edit, besides the sun is filtering through green, green leaves, and I might die if I don't go run around the pond RIGHT now.