Greyscale — pain lives between the lines, love draws the line
Birds or bees?
She asked about my preference
Subtle thought, I’ll choose the birds
She smiled, take a minute king, think before you speak to your servant.
I’ll think as deep as you take it in — I joked
She smiled — and turned to stare right into my eyes
Stop playing, I love you for your mind, think!
Blood rushed from my little man’s head to my mind
My eyes shut for a minute
My mind blinked, shooting blanks into a dark silence
I’ll always choose bees, I groaned.
She smiled,
Why king, she started rubbing my crotch, biting her lips a little harder
A bird is a heavy price, I continued. Beautiful feathers; lovely morning songs, caged with no complaints, and I can show it off to my friends. That’s every man’s dream. But I have to feed it, clean out its droppings, and nurse it till I can’t no more than let it go.
Bees sound like a stupid idea, a nightmare. They sting, and they buzz annoyingly, but if I nurture them long enough through the pain, they’ll multiply, and make me honey. Enough to feed me, enough to get me rich. It’s all about how much pain I can handle.
She kissed me tongue first
My silence dug deeper
Do you see the picture? She asked with pain in her eyes.
I do bird, I said
I love you king
I love you bird
Silence took the stage for a few minutes
I will never be a bee king, she whispered
I know bird, you don’t have a stinger. My joke didn’t induce her smile this time around
Come inside me, she moaned with tears in her eyes
She leaned in and whispered in my ears, I know you handle pain so well king, but show me…
