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In The Night
The succulent thighs,
Surround the skull of passion.
As arms of lust, grasp,
A waist, encased.
Wet snake, thrives.
Spreads the joy
Travels to a fro.
The arms' minions,
Pinch. Hard, tight.
Ceasing their grip.
Atop the skull.
A stroke. A tug.
Hair, helpless.
Held in fist.
Subtle is the moan.
Crimson fate,
Sealed and evident.
Broken is the air.
Of screams
And gasps.
