Continental Hourglass

By | 1 September 2013

3pm French service at the church of OMG
dear secret vision board
I have Franco’d up my stays into pearl restraint
There are no zips as zips untrusted
And you, my friend, with your hitherto plans
your golden irises to lick me like paint
(would be a good idea!)
In my lanklustre arms tired from the brow-bearing I have
two things, yes
my left hand Anais, my right hand Colette and also
in my brain am holding. Shh.
There is no paradox in this comely sight, why
girls have been reading porn in stay-ups since the
French Revolution, peekaboo stylings like the
cellular arts were always commodifying. I quite like the
way you can get burlesque in the inner locations like
rooftop honey.
What did you put on your satinboard now, and thread your fingers through
cloister wise?
We used Stanley knives across the pages I was looking for Yearnings
whereas you, for a little coquine with quals on the side.
We worked quickly as the
magazines were getting heavy
and the diptych candles liminal by their five-score hour life.

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