
well, fuck me purple and boot my ass to the moon .... -rolls eyes. sigh- I can hardly concentrate lately. And it's ALL YOUR FAULT. Heavy on the angst, duckies.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst - Chapters: 4 - Words: 254 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 09-11-09 - id: 2719238
|
|
A+ A- |
I. On Screen
-
She
[the teacher, the
wannabe lecherous bundle of
sticks and mortar]
was attempting
--- and failing---
to effectively explain the minute wriggling
of chloroplasts on a wet mount, writhing their last
under a high-powered microscope, their death
made humiliating by being displayed
on screen.
Using words like "turgid" and
"guard cell" and "stoma", while I
was thinking
"teeth" and "gyrate" and "sweet-wet"
of mouth-made contusions and half-permanent
scrap-of-moon-shaped blushes, also
imprisoned (likely)
on screen.
|
||||||