Voyeur’s Delight
A crisp shirt and tie juxtapose his tanned neck and bulging arms. He's rock hard. Rugged. All man. A lilac breeze intoxicates my arousal as I watch him sip coffee, unaware.
Alone at my table on the cafe's patio, I slip fingers between my legs and stroke. Delicious, conspicuous stimulation. I lean back in my seat, touch myself again, and clear my throat. When he looks my way, his crooked smile fuses me to my chair. Fuck. I want him again, so I wink.
He grabs his phone and types.
Him: You came.
Me: Not yet, babe. ;) Keep watching.
Writer’s Block
Trying to stifle my creativity. You’re driving me crazy. Like some mad scientist shot up with rabies, experimenting on babies, handing out scabies. Telling me to stay calm, but where is the safety? You say there’s no diagnosis. Keep your theories, your pamphlets, your prognosis. Trying to keep us under hypnosis, underestimating your own psychosis. Loss of humanity causes words to decay. Losing their meaning, slipping away. Like a pair of jeans beginning to fray. Materialism is warped, people begin to pray. Poverty and hunger, death and destruction. The only way you know how to function. Sheep without a shepherd, brain abduction. Advertisements, agendas, hidden seduction. Pushing your phony medications. Sitting on your throne giving bullshit consultations. Waiting to take over, media manipulation. Mind sedation, crumbling your reputation. Tell me, what’s your strategy? Trying to deprave us of our morality? Captivity of our confidentiality? You won’t break my spirituality. In the midst of all this pollution, there’s those who know of a solution. Ridding the world of all the confusion, fighting for our restitution. One day you’ll be overthrown. Your lies, your weapons, drones and clones. No longer able to judge and condone, intellectuals uncovering what’s left of your unknown.