Monster.

Monster.

A Story by I Speak Begonias.

She says it’s not the same when she touches herself.

  

Without you there to guide her hands, she’s just a stranger.

 

Her fingers have begun to forget her curves.

  

Her memory fails her as she runs her hand across her thigh;

  

she thinks “I used to know you.”

 

© 2008 I Speak Begonias.


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Added on December 10, 2008
Last Updated on December 10, 2008