| Thunder Sandwich #17
|
 dweeb by jeff filipski |
| I Don't Remember I don't remember the night sweats or swollen glands. I don't remember the shape or size of his glans. I don't remember if I enjoyed it or if I cared. I don't remember when the deed was done, or how my heart was won. I don't remember the color of his eyes or the smell of his hair. I don't remember if he cooed me or wooed me or simply spooged me. I don't remember the smell of his cologne, or if he wore one. I don't remember the foreplay or the floorplay. I don't remember his member, large or small. I don't remember his body, short or tall. I don't remember if he offered to glove his love or if I demanded he bare all. I don't remember his orgasm or mine. I don't remember his semen finding a tear in my rectal wall. I don't remember fluids mingling in infectious rapture. I don't remember the CD-4 soldiers attacking, ending in viral capture. I don't remember the engagement or the replication. I don't remember what I learned in Biology 101. I don't remember the music or the dance. I don't remember the fanfare or Pomp and Circumstance. I don't remember speeches ceremoniously delivered on my behalf. I don't remember the jokes or the laughs. I don't remember an invocation. I don't remember the benediction or any prayer. I don't remember the afterglow or the morning after. I don't remember the who, the what, or where. I don't remember the sacrament or the invective. I don't remember when I was infected. |
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| ISSN: 1534-4037 |
Edited by Jim Chandler & Haze McElhenny
|