My capacious curves captivate my hunter as he crests the dark, haunted with the howling of wolves. Somewhere a bad dream chases a man to the end of the Sidewalk. Another is caught in thorns and melancholy. But my man is here between my hips, marveling at the sweet, secret underside of my breasts and my generous thighs. He touches my fluffy core and a beam of blue light pierces my corneas, lighting the room like a computer lab. His body is rough, coarse, able and willing to do the math that frightens me. Eventually the sun will rise for the last time.
Miniature Moon 