Salome*
The biblical histrionic
Herod’s bewitcher
Her charms proffered
Beneath the silk
Of seven veils.
The ****** of her belly
The rise of her *******
Makes an old mans knuckles
Long to knead her flesh.
Proselytized
Herod will give her a n y t h i n g
But John will never
Be hers.
His love is numinous
It transcends mere flesh
And so she is enraged.
And demands his head
On a silver platter.


Nothing worse
Than being told
You are loved equally
There was never a woman
Comforted by such words.
Tell your bride
On your wedding night
That you care for her
As much as you care for
Your mother
Your sister
And your aunt
And then while you skip
Into the bathroom
To search for your
Rubber accoutrements
She will be busy on the internet
Searching for your replacement
On Match.com.
And you won’t be able to call
Mother
Or Auntie
Or *****
for a hug.
Not while your ***** hangs limply
In its latex casing
It
would  
just
look
ODD.