crossing the line she had drawn in the sand cussing me out from holding my hand these rules and lies all she made up her chalice of fire scorching my cup
rue the day she came to know the silent demon hid in my soul pushing memories out of the way and succumb to a chasm of arid dismay
two: "rules"
forget the burning in your ***** forget the cursed mine of coins forget the lashings from her lips forget the sinner b'twixt my hips
eyes that sting when open too long voice that scratches when given song bodies that itch for cursed delights heart that relates pleasure and fright
three: "Mary"
blessed are they that feel the burn holy is she that ignores the yearn but what should she get for crossing her thighs? not honor nor respect, but labor and sighs
'sainthood becomes her,' the elders all say 'so honest! so pure! and see just how fair!' whilst only yesterday they'd cursed the ***** remanded to outcast; covered no more.