deepundergroundpoetry.com

Riding

I grabbed her    
outside the old stables    
a quick toke from behind    
legs raised    
on a broken chair    
peeling paint abandoned    
to the bleach of the sun    
    
Ants  
swarmed on the ground    
collecting remnants of straw  
too busy with summer    
to notice    
    
She squealed    
as I yanked her pants down    
hiked up her yellow tee    
with its jackpot cherry    
fruit machine    
peeping and paying out    
as the buds of her nipples    
swung free    
    
She begged me:  
Don't stop,    
showed the whites of her eyes    
smiling someone might come    
so I slapped at her cheeks    
and thrust harder    
    
But no-one appeared    
to leer or to frown    
only the ghost of some stallion    
mounting his mare    
in the glare of the past  
returning  
to ride out the moment    
  
Written by Abracadabra
Published | Edited 13th Jul 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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