that strange human who god was

[sab]

I let Rob generate some poems about Aeryn and Crichton and Crais and "Hard/Work".




Hard Work Again

hard work again. They said intelligent things
Aeryn.
murmurs. She
let Crichton liked to
her hair
fall against
curved wall,
fingers slide inside her,
but now she blinks and he stands up around
her an argument. But fight it
down Crais plays
with
her, into
her up to
slip her Aeryn has
to get she
says.

Hard Work for Composure

hard Work for composure. All along
it smells like
a
chair.
They said the reason she knows and
wide, like
that. strange human who god was long while, since back
and Crichton. who
died in his war, beginning, and slick and
shape, but healthier than it too.

And She Pushes Harder

As Crichton, she steels
herself for him, with the
dumb human difficulty
with his
memory, is softer when stay
in some animal part of the one
who equated sex and
say yes Could you need
a little bit in her arms
in her memories of
it, down and it for
her, forehead against her ears.
Fifteen. Twenty. And pushes
harder.