Did you drag me to the dumpster
like a Glad garbage bag full of trash,
glad I was drunk enough to
fuck and chunk over
the edge, a sack
of action toys?
Did pine needles prick
the fingers you used
inside of me, dirt beneath
nails scratching me
as if you were a grizzly bear
digging for seeds,
my vagina your den?
Did the fact I had no choice
make you flinch when
you entered me?

Laurie Kolp

It is absolutely necessary, for the peace and safety of mankind, that some of earth’s dark, dead corners and unplumbed depths be let alone; lest sleeping abnormalities wake to resurgent life, and blasphemously surviving nightmares squirm and splash out of their black lairs to newer and wider conquests.

H.P. Lovecraft
At the Mountains of Madness

Caressing dreams

January 9, 2020

Christmas week I woke one morning convinced I had been with a group of Time Travelling Lesbian Crossdressers. It was one of those caressing dreams that lingers on. One where the body becomes music, you know, a perfect violin, and you ride the wild surf of your bed sheets with violent desire. You are in lust with everyone. And they bite you, taste your lips, caress your hardness in a way that expresses their own needs and desires. They take you to a place without any rules, without any limits. Way beyond time itself…

P

under the covers

January 9, 2020

The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn’t real. I know that, and I also know that if I’m careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle.

Stephen King
Night Shift

melt into me

January 9, 2020

Afterward she lies nestled against me, her hair tickling my face. I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin.

Sara Gruen
Water for Elephants

Vague fantasies

January 9, 2020

She is not asleep, but neither is she truly awake. Vague fantasies, most of them unpleasant, occupy her submerged brain.

Anna Kavan
Asylum Piece