it’s not just words that fall. br each curved letter is an intense need br that reigns unbridled, br surrounded by a hush of bitten lower lipped sighs. br br something is there; br taut, eyes-gone-wide, there. br the visage of blatant sex, there. br the kind of drape br from being poured naked br onto a wrinkled bed, there. br br and, it all falls open in br whetted desire slid onto palms br to feed skin, moaning poetry. br br masturbated and exhausted br those pouting full words br are content to leave their pieces, br dangerously spread.