edited March 3 in Poems

You promised transformation if I bit
the apple of your lust. We would be
together, your dark trunk's cool coil
dry against the wetness of my sable.

You promised a tongue not forked,
but one to flick, flick at the bud
buried in pink, as your black eyes
blinked at the quiver of my heat.

You promised a new living
beyond the flat bright world
he and I came from. Day after day
sameness, eternity's torture.

I promised to light you up, illuminate
your coiled darkness, but I lied.


Sign In or Register to comment.