Poetry / thoughts of her flesh the taste of her soul
thoughts of her flesh the taste of her soul
the fear in her eyes as you take control
slow and firm you tighten your grip
teeth digging in ,the taste of her lip
back in your mind things become clear
she screams so loud but no one can hear
it’s time once again the hour is near
a human to eat
and a case of cold beer
you cant stop the craving
an addiction to feed
wild eyed raving
you cut and they bleed
blood and flesh
devoured so quick
feeling empowered
blood salty and thick
rudely awoken
by the knocks on your door
foggy and dazed not really sure
the nightmare again just like before
you welcome your guest
through the front door
a needed sex fest
with a hot whore
thoughts of her flesh the taste of her soul
the fear in her eyes as you take control…..
©SMRB
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My, my. You have a potent way with words. If i haven’t said it i will, now: your words are like a trip to exotica. In this poem, you reach back far into the recesses of some dark cavernous mind and bring out things, others only hint at(like myself). You pull no punches, yet the meaning comes out almost eloquently. Your sructure is magnificant. The words seem to jump off the page at the reader—like a livewire. You also tell a frightful little story here in only a few words. I wouldn’t touch it with suggestions. Again, i almost need a fan to cool off. Sandi
you welcome your guest
through the front door
a needed sex fest
with a hot whore
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