published in Volume 1, Issue 4 on September 15th, 1994
I give you a silent proposition. If I taste your sweetness, your thighs scented in dark fertile earth brushed with loam, your balls (which contain a sliding world) your cockwarm brightness, Will you taste my lips? You. Are utterly oblivious. Sliding pawns across smooth board. The dark points of lash & blue-jean colored eyes I would like to kiss, when you are contemplating casually, a rook's suicide, my body swells and leans to you. True somehow, my nipples have deviously devised a path... can nipples think? WE ARE AWARE! announcing themselves oh so stiff ly Chiefly because your nipples taste of ripe peaches between my teeth. Surprise me. Touch gleaming gold in my core. Sheen of silver against your tongue. Checkmate. Easily, eagerly now, give me the contemplation of your eyes- I am willing to be caught in your game.