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| Master Bates. | |
| By amoryblaine | ||||||||||||||||||||||
| 14 March 2007 | ||||||||||||||||||||||
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All of seventeen and sprawled On the roof he lies Pants rolled down his ankles He looks out to the skies. A refreshing and mellow breeze Carresses his thighs Blood gushes to the right places And he lets out a sigh. The city below with its orchestra of gore Produces its own symphony His hands reach out and conduct The whole ceremony. That girl in class The woman at the mall His third grade teacher He will all of them enthral. He breaks into a sweat His body tightens up a bit His hands start to ache But frantically he goes for it. Skin on skin Dark and light Sweat on sweat He loves them all tonight. And then in an instant He is released Like God waking up inside of him Or maybe it was the beast? Now its become his mission To answer that question So in an effort to do so He visits the roof-often.
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