Dust under my feet

Dust under my feet
The sun overhead
Roasting,melting
Darkening my skin
A scent in the distance
A whiff of perfume
I look up
Our eyes meet, our smiles mate
She looks down
Engrossed and held captive
Prisoner to the gadget in her hand
Primal instinct kicks me
I gaze
Her legs, ones that are used to lotion
Her face tells tales
Of facemasks and creams
Of careful detail
Make up to accentuate
Lipstick to aggregate
The beauty that’s her

A set of pearls
Glimmering in her mouth
All ivory and straight
Hair that flows
Cascading down to the small of her back
Down uncovered
welcoming shoulders
Supple succulent bosom
Bouncing and stealing
Every straw
Every last straw of concentration from my grasp
Quickly I prioritize
I optimize
The few fleeting moments before she’s gone

The jeans
Hugging and tugging
Fighting a battle
Trying to contain her
Voluptuously inviting buttocks
curves
Curves to maim
The perfect geometry
Of the curvature
I see
Through the aperture
Of my eyes
I swallow saliva
She must fart rainbows
I try to imagine
It looks absurd
physically impossible
But the curves
Tachycardia sets in
Less of blood up top
More of life down low

She looks up
I find myself in Kamiti
The kamiti maximum
A prisoner of the brown
Glassy brown
Deep and meaningful
She stops her graceful walk
And faces me
Perspiration comes forth
I imagine my armpits flooding
Expiration comes not
Then she opens her mouth
” I saw is you is looking is me”
The sails in my top gallant mast rip
What?
She jests
“Pardon?”
Perplexion exudes
Corroboration of grammatical collaboration
“I saw you looking at me”
That must be
But the sentence, dear me
She exhales
Her cleavage is a beverage
Lust is its name
Partaking is the game
Her breath
Like a syringe to the arse
It is swift
Oh why?
Why does her breath
Smell like corrosion and death?
Halitosis consume
The cavity of her mouth
She farts
My phone drops
Perfume covers not
The cracking screen
Hides not the great
Merciless and gangrene inducing
Odour
Odour of broken dreams and desperation
Emanating her backside
” I thought you looked like someone I know”
With that I took my leave
Dust under my feet
A dust storm at my heel
Away from this nightmare
No more foul winds to bear….

Not my best work but I enjoyed its simplicity… 🙂

image

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3 thoughts on “Dust under my feet

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