You carefully destroyed me
Uncovered the most tender parts of my core with detective kit compliments
Places where I never let anyone feed.
You gnawed on the clitoral soul that I thought I buried years ago
Until I lay sprawled beneath you, no pulse.
Necrophiliacs like us best when we cannot match their heaving breaths
Or reach out to wipe the sweat off their brow, induced from fear of poor performance.
How unfortunate for you that I am an empty casket.
Accustomed to cremation, I turned to ashes upon your final assault.
Try to grasp me again, I’ll slip through your fingers.
There isn’t an urn strong enough to keep a woman condensed
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
You carefully destroyed me
Uncovered the most tender parts of my core with detective kit compliments
Places where I never let anyone feed.
You gnawed on the clitoral soul that I thought I buried years ago
Until I lay sprawled beneath you, no pulse.
Necrophiliacs like us best when we cannot match their heaving breaths
Or reach out to wipe the sweat off their brow, induced from fear of poor performance.
How unfortunate for you that I am an empty casket.
Accustomed to cremation, I turned to ashes upon your final assault.
Try to grasp me again, I’ll slip through your fingers.
There isn’t an urn strong enough to keep a woman condensed
A work in progress.
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