manuscriptx
New Member
I'm enjoying the last vestiges of winter; the cold; the peace and the quiet. Unlike summer when it's nice; there's always a strong force of nature crashing down like a fist through a glass table. If you watch and listen to a storm as if were a book; you’d be reading through seven pages of short gusty breezes; flashes and crashes of lightning; loud bearish boorish tiger and lions’ roars of thunder and the calm after the storm.
I like winter. I like it like I like a white woman's vagina spread eagle on my lap in front of me; when she looks at me; when I look at her. When I see my fingers touch; it’s like vanilla at the bottom of the cup.
I also think of strawberry. After one monotonous occasion like an overnight thunderstorm............I like to open a window; look up at the brightening stars and sniff in some air. It's like when you bury your head under the covers awhile. Then when you get up; you can breathe easier.
The seasons change like a woman's underpants. Women are much like the seasons; meeting a woman when she's new to you; spring time. Things get hotter and heavier over the summer. Arguments and fights make it seem like autumn; and late autumn is forgiveness and make up sex.
What is winter? Winter is when we all sleep. Not just by me with my bride but all of us; all of humanity. We need winters to sleep. And we need writers to write about them. We need rejuvenated senses and in spring time we start over; only for the moment is when we become familiar with each other; we become smarter and more adept. We make better decisions and carry them over year after year.
But I like winter. It's the place where I choose to go.
I like winter. I like it like I like a white woman's vagina spread eagle on my lap in front of me; when she looks at me; when I look at her. When I see my fingers touch; it’s like vanilla at the bottom of the cup.
I also think of strawberry. After one monotonous occasion like an overnight thunderstorm............I like to open a window; look up at the brightening stars and sniff in some air. It's like when you bury your head under the covers awhile. Then when you get up; you can breathe easier.
The seasons change like a woman's underpants. Women are much like the seasons; meeting a woman when she's new to you; spring time. Things get hotter and heavier over the summer. Arguments and fights make it seem like autumn; and late autumn is forgiveness and make up sex.
What is winter? Winter is when we all sleep. Not just by me with my bride but all of us; all of humanity. We need winters to sleep. And we need writers to write about them. We need rejuvenated senses and in spring time we start over; only for the moment is when we become familiar with each other; we become smarter and more adept. We make better decisions and carry them over year after year.
But I like winter. It's the place where I choose to go.