I didn't beware
my inner JonBenet
choked breathless
with garrote
manacled back,
she visions the next sexual pageant;
the next ruffled dress to wear.
To behead the quiet young queen
a Brutus strikes
in distracted resent
coolness bleeding
itchy skin
rope burn heap,
he's chanting selfless humming success;
with destined domination in sight.
No comments:
Post a Comment