she will make you want it,
you’ll want it. You will think
you need it and she will
make you believe it.
That tramp temptress,
straight or high
breathing lust down your throat
and into your veins.
And as your pulse quickens and migrates
she will transform, that bitch seductress,
into a ravenous mass of intertwined flesh
engulfing your right to think.
When she is satisfied, she leaves.
Perhaps she will share a cigarette,
a drink, a laugh. Ha!
No, no, silly boy, she will escape.
All the while, I look on,
admiring her art.
Bitter jealousy on my pursed lips
because I love her
and she only wanted to fuck you