bootleg literature

“I put my hand on this face; I put my hand on it as one puts one’s hand on an object that can be turned this way or that, crushed or kneaded, and I felt her face accepting my hand precisely on those terms: like a thing eager to be turned and crushed.” He drove a needle through the lobe of her ear. He was dizzy with his new power. All her energy at his disposal. He should’ve carried her up the stairs to her room and tied her to the bed and touched that left knee all night long. For a moment he regretted to have parted forever with that adorable, capricious, sloe-eyed lady.”

from Literary Girl Talk, found here on Tumblr.