bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Monday 16th April 2007.

The sunshine capturing so many imaginations over the past few days has once more retreated into the cool world crusted inside the pink kimono.Familiar battened down grey clouds hovered,slight drizzle has rested on weary flower heads soaking through the colours, beginning to turn the once flaming yellow daffodils into crusted old men tied bent over green stalks mouthing apologies about not being the golden flower for quite long enough to stand in the breeze and wave me on towards the lantern held in hope.
Beasts however do not watch the grey sky their coats protected in sheaths free to roam under the eyelids punching out raw breasts and covered cocks passing through the hours of the day. Once more i had to tie my sac hard again, masturbation is not a fig leaf but a painted jackal shinning bright four legs galloping,four legs, better than two legs, was there not a line with three legs or have i been away from the school books for so long the mind crumbles with thoughts within the school book syndrome captured on imprints flogged in school boy pockets..conkers, string, the odd marble and those chewing gum cards from the American Civil War..growing into the first time i stretched up and purchased a porn mag..i can remember where,not quite when,the ride home on the bus each red light making the breath come harder..on opening the page in my room full of famous five books,broken biscuit crumbs gosh...and gosh again,the golden days of youth, not much different than the waving daffodil shaped to draw in the sweet smelling cock face, feeling the rough tongue of licks the sniffing wet nose..Wordsworth scribbling out a host of golden daffodils i shall miss them....already the wheel is turning to summer,winters shaggy coat lies abandoned at last

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