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Rigid Stories

rigid

Love's last quatrain

Occasionally, even little pigs may recognise pearls amid their sty

I built a poem from Lego bricks Perfection! Not a hole to fix Each room I filled with emptiness Each plastic rhyme with hopelessness * Hey, lover! (who builds poems from sticks) I built a poem from Lego bricks He read, his face - a doleful mask - Proclaim...

At the nudist beach

SHE SPREAD HER WET PUSSY, AND BEGAN TO PLAY WITH IT, TURNED ON BY THE OTHER SCENE.

One Sunday at the nudist beach. As it was habitual, every Sundays we did the same thing over and over, and this time was not the exception of the rule: we got up early to have  breakfast,  picked up our stuff and packed everything we'd need in a bag: towe...