Cling
The dust covered
Electric fan
Feels good
On my arm
As
During a heatwave
You have draped yourself
All over me
While sleeping
Sleep is the little death
Someone once said
But it’s where we
Love the most
So I watch you
Quietly dying
Watch the hours
Turn to stone,
The soft heat
Of your cunt
On my leg
Making it hard
To stay still
And you let
Die
A little more.
Horror Sleaze Trash 