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February 07, 2005
Your wife
My love,
You stare cold,
As your logic cuts
In sharp edges, every word
You disect, reason, and dominate,
As I sit quiet, and take you
Inside my head,
The callous femme,
All hunched, by the door,
Her hair, golden highlights,
Leotard covered limbs, wih callases
Bruised toes, heels, in black circles,
skin thight on her face, pulled, a new nose,
A new chin, sillicone sacks, holding her breasts,
Toned muscles, trained weekly, six hours, built anew,
The woman you wanted, stretched, made to perfection,
And yet, you imply as polite as you are, that somthing is missing
After all these years, all the skins I shed, to feed your boredom,
-Your whore, not a wife, for the necassity of your agression, laid,
Spread, coke mouthed, doggy style, from the side,swallowing your cum,
At your command, poses, jests, on my knees, on all fours, submitted
To every form, your whore, fucked, fucked, and yet fucked again, in
Every pores, and orifices, hard, so she does not even remember,
Where She was left, how she got here, finding indifferences,
In mirror Less frames, and yet she is here, the greedy femme,
Pacing, tense, Trying to guess, your next move, your
Latest whim, lost, knowing, she is yours,
Yours to claim, yours to hold, or throw away.
Posted by Idinraha at February 7, 2005 04:10 PM
Comments
Is there a pill for this condition, 'cause this is sick dude - even for the cycho!
Posted by: cycho ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.idinraha.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at February 8, 2005 03:03 AM