slap

the moment you slapped it, i knew we were compatible in bed.
extreme body modification swinging limbs over my head, disappearing above and below the demarcation line of standard sexual conduct leaning towards a little deviant instead.
suck it, squeeze it, slap it, punch it, suck it, squeeze it, slap it, punch it. slap it, slap it, slap it. yea, ok. slap it again for good luck.
2009 in san francisco was a delicious time to be on top of the world. standing at the tip of golden plated gates, walking on water and naked bodies on steamy lakes,
access to heaven through the castro's back door, exploring minds and bodies and souls through music and laughter and more not giving a shit.
exploring places long gone tipsy on fog, wigs, paint, and all the saints lined up at 18th and dolores.
or were they nuns? the sisters of perpetual indulgence they call themselves, right?
up against walls and buses i'll paint this city with screams into the night.