IRC-Galleria

A good man.

It's a paradox.
she said
and blew some smoke
on my face.

"I never trust them.
They grind, whine,
steal and leave."
the red lips
continued
and soft tongue
licked
side of her mouth.

She always says so,
they tell.

And then she,

walks
away.

With the money,
of course.