Sunday, April 04, 2010

Poem: "Spending"


The kneeling whore holds her tongue still

Letting my yellow-tinged cum

Dribble across it

Like salad-dressing

Simultaneously pleasant and repellent

Not waiting to swallow, she engulfs me

The trained eagerness of her mouth

Neither reaching her eyes

Nor rousing my lust

Frictionless motion with no destination

She lets me pull back her painted face

By roughly-grasped hair

Forcing my softening sex

Desperately deep

Will and habit warring with reality

Tongue now stiffer than the flaccid flesh it works

Her nose held against my thrusting pelvis

She waits stoically for me to recognize

What she already knows

That I am spent to the point of bankruptcy

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