Receiving you loud and clearly

easter one.... written when I was drunk and angry... not sure if it makes for good results..

The little girl- so unknowing

Drank the oyster, sacred rock

Had her fill to juices running

Down her chin and lower still

Greedy, Selfish, Wanton was she

Blinded by consumption

Never full- eternally craving

For its silky skin

 

And when delivered on a plate

Roared, gasped, groaned

Little girl at the door

Woman now within

Take her in

Take me in

To the “Sacre du Printemps”

With its stabbing cellos

 

Care not if she hurts

Offers Pleasure? Don’t be absurd

Only her needs, her desires

Are worthy

Yours languish behind

 

In the filthy toilet cubicle

Behind the door

Yet eyes still pry

Where she took it all

And tore it out

 

Cares? Don’t be absurd

You are not her lover

A plaything, stop-gap

Tempory fill

Til she finds the one

The one who she can love

And give back in return