Her thighs opened smooth, carved and hard,
My fingertips griped them as they would
A lid to a casket,
Opened
A place men go but never come out of
The aroma of her cunt danced with the
Sweat and the thick humid air,
Twinkled like a star through the sheets,
The funeral was starting I could hear the music
My blood turned to feathers
As her grip tore me by my spirit
And turned me inside out
I took her by suprize,
Found her flower and stole the pollen
And fucked her in a way
She knew she would be
Staying fucked.
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