time don't move like tina's hands can it don't even try to move like i do while her pale brown lips pinched shut manage to squeeze out a
"bitch, i said don't move" whisper
that takes up my half of the bed with her freshly filed fingers finding space in a prison hole not big enough for 2 not big enough for 3 yet she manages to fit her penis envy in and she's got rhythm like a man 'cept her two step last longer because she's not trying to cum
she trying to run
me trying to find power in pussy that belongs to neither of us any more but i let her continue to search for days on a calendar she scratched inside of me she’s hoping to one day reach my womb by her hands so she can feel close to her children without glass in between she trying to touch her children in me not realizing that i left my eggs at home too but I let her try because eventually she’ll stumble around my clit and if i find the right angle to look at tina thru then squint my eyes slightly she starts to look like one of them fine high yella boys that usta whistle my name then i get quiet and pretend that one of them is loving me with old spice heavy on his neck and malted lips that i take to the head drowning out my moans with silence
because dyke still ain't dick
regardless how much i imagine it to be I am not a dyke i just need someone to hold on to to remind me what the world feels like and i betcha tina wasn't no dyke when she was free she probably didn't even like the smell that fell past her knees when she bent over for a love she'd end up shooting and now she's looking in pussy for a past time because love has fucked up her memory so much that she calculates her children's ages by the number of times she seen their faces and one of them has been 2 for too long but tina still holds on to baby pictures faded at the edges with push pin marks at the top to remind her how many times she was up for parole how many times she was packing her stuff to leave and how many times she ended up pushing pins back in to these walls
so, yeah i let tina search in me because we're in the same cell made of the same plea bargains that got denied before we tried to explain to justice that we too were blinded we two are binded trying not to be bound in past tense because we're still young enough to remember what old is and that’s why i let her leave salt on my nipples as she tries and taste life again let her find prayers on her knees that stay between me and her not worrying bout if gods/or guards are listening or watching because we got our eyes closed grinding pussies to the tune of time hoping that if we rub them right we'll get our wishes or at least cum closer to turning moments into days.