Friday, June 3, 2011

Sign Language

Too scared to speak fearing it will
fuck up the mood, she continues to

lay on the bottom as his pelvic bone thrust
into hip bone. Damn he needs to eat some collard green with pork and beans. She needed to lose weight, but only in the stomach area. Muffin top is just a cute word to say not to look at. If they were in a picture, the effect would be sepia the way the basement had that 1987 feel to it. You know the one where when you swept the dirt off the floor, the wind would sneak it back in. The worn out couch, ashtrays on the ground, liquor bottled on top of the entertainment center, 15 inch television showing the scores to the previous game of Mortal Combat, the smell of fried chicken being warmed up, hormone levels rising, understanding between two complicated young adults. Waking up from a cat nap, his eyes greeted her body and welcomed his hands to caress her nose. They always spoke in sign language.  

Written by Atarah Rumph 
of course this is dedicated to someone

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