He wrote:
Confession:
I want to suck your blood.
Question:
What do you want to suck?
Exposition:
I savor the red copper my teeth
excavate from your neck.
Your tortured pain feeds my decadent
delight.
We revel in the spurts of smoke and
jasmine.
Come to me, or I'll come to you.
I await haunted dreams of us.
I wanted to donate blood for the
survivors of the Orlando attack, so I thought he could come with me.
We told them he was my “moral
support.” After, I donated and before they put all the tape on my
puncture, we told them I had to go to the bathroom.
In the bathroom, he kissed and gently
sucked my boo boo.
I felt nervous, but on the fringes of
the fear I was excited.
It didn't hurt, and he stopped when he started to moan. I noticed his hard on.
He looked down at his pants too and
looked up and smiled.
“I think I need to stay here for a
while.”
I smiled and left to get taped and eat
my juice and granola bar.
I didn't see him again.
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