Stop it, Monica.

baneestinson:

ok. OK.  fleur for sure was jackin’ off.  js.

erospainter:

I write in praise of the solitary act:
of not feeling a trespassing tongue
forced into one’s mouth, one’s breath
smothered, nipples crushed against the
ribcage, and that metallic tingling
in the chin set off by a certain odd nerve:
unpleasure.
–Fleur Adcock, “Against Coupling”

(Reblogged from baneestinson)

Notes

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