Aphrodite’s
Angel
The
frustrations squeeze her mind
She’s not
cared about loving or kind
The
urge’s her desire to be taken and tied
That day
she noticed the scratch made her tingle, accursed innocence died
At school
she watched for the glint of a kinky mind to screw
So few
yet she saw one or two
But she
wanted something far beyond this kneeling pew
He bit
her lip and electricity shorted thru’
In the
world of the Cotton or Kit Kat club ‘twas easy to undo conventional
This
chain of psyche satisfaction, into the connected medium of physical expression
A man on
the edge of a blade that held her as his slave
But
weakness just below the surface, she’d turn viciously and he’d become her knave
She
love’s to look at the scars from night
She
love’s to feel the satisfaction that frustration had withheld terribly tight
She sees
the colors of her soul in blessed black and cursed white
Inhibitions
gone, her contented screams can be heard from the dungeon of the sexual knight
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