Mind Games

so there I was,

finger fucking with one hand,

and reading Bukowski

with the other,

what a combination,

it almost seemed natural,

like cookies and milk or,

bacon and eggs;

somewhere,

I swear the old bastard was

actually smiling,

damn proud that his work

was the inspiration for a

good finger fuck;

I know I would be;

I’d take a good finger fuck

over a bad mind fuck

any day;

she made me put the book down

when she mounted me,

I suppose there are some things

which just can’t be shared

.

.