Sultry machines, typewriters. Yes, really. Think. Silken ribbons, sopping in anticipation. Traces of wetness left on sheets of white. Intense, this fluid exchange. These keys are as blindfolded lovers- ribbed and longing for touch, they quiver at the first stroke as hot darts of desire leap upwards. Arched limbs. Every finger’s caress … More Bold
When I found you, you were ragged. So dusty. Sleeveless in the cold of your neglect. Though metal-rimmed. Built to last. Bumping through the decades, from storage to storage. But what did you mean? You were and are a demo. So: Did you spark a tryst? Give words to some unspoken love? Why didn’t … More What did you mean?