Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Tokyo Fantasy

I dream of me and a beauty. Naked, buxom, and bold she is at the doorsteps of the Budokan. We cover each other with grains of dried white rice. Under the summer heat we start to sizzle like Japanese yakatori. We embrace and feel each other's desirous flesh till the morning brings light to our expended souls. A dream goes up in smoke like origami paper.

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