Slop

It's been gone for a while,
sleeping in the fetal position.

The scribblings of an overworker, and a sex machine.
'Pen again, as if it's just penning. A neurological urge that tracks the movements of her brain, a diary, a pervertion allowed in.

The smarts, the small, the soft, the ache bare and naked and black and blue and exhausted from

too many tales on too many nights. The fear of a write. Pen again, as if it's just penning.'

It's been gone for a while,
roofied and lethal.