Lights turned low, rythms
pulsing through my body as we
move...writhing, sweat glistens
music pounding in my head
more intoxicating than the drink
in my hand...we sway, undulate
feel your body up against me
running hands down my thighs
dip down low, actions mimick sex
while hips gyrate...touching my face
fingers stroking my back
brushing hips, pulling me in
closer, verging into unity
bodies restless, caught in the
music, succumbing to seduction...
fog flows through us, clouding
my sight, clogging my chest
can't draw breath...body so
close feel your heart race
touching you, arms wrapped
around, drowning in the beats
passionate embrace, slickened
bodies searching release...lips
on me...music fading...one last
grind before it stops...
Damn.
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
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Sandie May Angel
Hope he granted you another dance?
Good one.
Love Tinkas
Hot read.