His breathing next to hers, tantamount to her completeness.
She sighs in disbelief: forever after is theirs to devour.
She's lost for words,
lost in their steaming black hole of love and lust.
She seeks for similes;
he reeks for rimes.
Her touching close to his, paramount to his wholeness.
He grunts in relief: morrow, evermore is theirs to scour.
He's lost for words,
lost in their steaming black hole of love and lust.
She seeks.
He reeks.
He doesn't trip.
She doesn't flip.
While he was sleeping, she was dreaming.
Author
Eяin Heяoin
4 comments
Reflective, and complementing. As genuine ardor should be. The leit motif like a melody sensual and suave. Exquisite and explicit. Mutualism of hearts.
ʎonqʎʇıɔ
said...
March 24, 2010 at 2:39 AM
the last line reminds me of paula cole's where have all the cowboys gone. real nice, basterda.
VICTOR
said...
March 24, 2010 at 4:24 AM
I guess forever after is terrifying, but not within the bounds of requited love (or the fantasy of requited love).
Eяin Heяoin
said...
March 26, 2010 at 8:57 AM
@Red: Thanks! :)
@Nyl: I don't know any Paula Cole songs but hey, thanks for telling me. :)
@Victor: Hee, righty right! :)
@Nyl: I don't know any Paula Cole songs but hey, thanks for telling me. :)
@Victor: Hee, righty right! :)
Popular Posts
-
I recently talked to Teena Tan of Sabrina Clothing and I also got to try a few of her pieces. You may read the feature on When in Manila... -
1 I like taking baths when it's past midnight. Everyone else is asleep. And (I could only / only I could) hear the trickling of the b...
-
"a catatonic catwoman, a catastrophe!" As far back as I can remember, I wasn't really fascinated with cats as a kid. But ...
-
Murdered toes with calloused brows Calloused toes with murdered brows Threatening dildos amidst Hypertonic coitus A conniving flapper agains...
-
His breathing next to hers, tantamount to her completeness. She sighs in disbelief: forever after is theirs to devour. She's lost for wo...
-
* originally published on Stache Magazine * Dial M for Misfits (or Motherf*ckers) The Strangeness, a 6-piece gang of hooligans from O...
-
Her guts are trussed and she smells just like the afternoon's humidity. She only had 5 hours of sleep and as usual, glum circles infest ...
-
If I remember right, I was still a few years shy to being in my 20s when somebody first plagiarized my writings online. It was ridiculous. T...
-
* originally published on Stache Magazine * Melanie Martinez started taking pictures when she was 13 years young. She is a self-taught p... -
For the longest time of my mid-20s life, or for more/less 2 months and 20 days, I was unemployed. If you follow me on Rantr , you'd know...
Similarly
His breathing next to hers, tantamount to her completeness.
She sighs in disbelief: forever after is theirs to devour.
She's lost for words,
lost in their steaming black hole of love and lust.
She seeks for similes;
he reeks for rimes.
Her touching close to his, paramount to his wholeness.
He grunts in relief: morrow, evermore is theirs to scour.
He's lost for words,
lost in their steaming black hole of love and lust.
She seeks.
He reeks.
He doesn't trip.
She doesn't flip.
While he was sleeping, she was dreaming.
She sighs in disbelief: forever after is theirs to devour.
She's lost for words,
lost in their steaming black hole of love and lust.
She seeks for similes;
he reeks for rimes.
Her touching close to his, paramount to his wholeness.
He grunts in relief: morrow, evermore is theirs to scour.
He's lost for words,
lost in their steaming black hole of love and lust.
She seeks.
He reeks.
He doesn't trip.
She doesn't flip.
While he was sleeping, she was dreaming.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Total Pageviews
views •
∞
Contact
Born in the mid-80s, Erin Herøin is a marveller of non-sequitur writing, cinematic films, & analogue photography.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Reflective, and complementing. As genuine ardor should be. The leit motif like a melody sensual and suave. Exquisite and explicit. Mutualism of hearts.
ReplyDeletethe last line reminds me of paula cole's where have all the cowboys gone. real nice, basterda.
ReplyDeleteI guess forever after is terrifying, but not within the bounds of requited love (or the fantasy of requited love).
ReplyDelete@Red: Thanks! :)
ReplyDelete@Nyl: I don't know any Paula Cole songs but hey, thanks for telling me. :)
@Victor: Hee, righty right! :)