The Artist Does what he can to get through the Morning

The Artist is in bed, beneath filthy sheets, fighting sadness. He slept well, he felt refreshed on waking, but as soon as he tried to get out of bed a wave of sadness came for him pushing him back down. Hours have passed. From time to time a great bluebottle lands on his head, cleans...

The Artist

The Artist Pays the Muse      Players The Artist: A beautiful man. The kind you want to fuck. You imagine being on top of him, him in you, riding. You imagine doing this behind your husbands back, sneaking him in through the back-door while he, (your husband) is out at work. You imagine doing...