the new and old writings

of Joseph Francesco Taft Cesare
[joseph.cesare@gmail.com]

Tuesday, 5 January 2010

my shadow next to yours, lit by streetlight onto pavement.

he squeezes her hips
and she squeals but doesnt run
in a white room
on a white bed
her black skirt is easily undone

his hands which feel unreal,
very much exist as he undresses her
on white sheets
with white teeth
her painted black nails grip white silk
as he possesses her