little pig does poetry
2003-04-12 00:34:50 (UTC)

Like a vampire at midnight

you murder me, draining
my pumping existence
to the last drop. But
I only serve your angry hunger
obediently, my body reclined
in darkness as you ride
through the twilight hours
in rhythmic unison
with the bed squeak.
And as you hair lashes
my chest like black ropes,
I clutch the bedsheets
with quiet fear, wondering
when you would come again.