6/3/2023 0 Comments Bombyonder by Reb LivingstonWhen he poured mouthwash on my chest was that part of the act or the dream? Did he really liken our sex to slitting our throats? That made me think of my father and I didn’t want to remember him while I was sexing on a memory foam mattress. Sleeping and sexing was pretty much the same for me so I didn’t notice much difference. Experts said sleep would be improved but sex sketchy on memory foam. We were sexing it up on a very fine mattress. It was like if James Dean, Mickey Rourke and Val Kilmer all took a shit in the same bucket and Judy Chicago, while strung out on meth, sculpted the shit into my lover. He didn’t say where he was or where he got his leather biker jacket. After the baby foxes hunted the baby deer and dragged their bodies back to the den, he returned as if he stayed and never left. He left for a day, his clothes were taken from the closet, I thought he was dead. There was a room that was mine that I shared. This really wasn’t food it was more like an infection. What a horrible thing to qualify for free beasts at every response. The violence of reporting: everything uncovered was under fire, lashing out or blasting. What a difficult thing to sleep among the howls.
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