Seduction . . .
red bedroom eyes ablaze.
Touching lips,
touching breath to hungry bodies.
Sex so wrong that we put everything we had aside
nowhere
ever nearing
love.
You were good,
a philanderer’s life ambition.
No questions asked,
I’d call as I would crave it.
No pains,
no bother,
lost searching broken souls.
We were just bodies for each others’ lust.
Slave . . .
I’d call and you’d come running.
Lonesome bones
within a hedonistic prison.
Hollow beings with hearts of ice
we enjoyed just being used.
Without a fleeting thought of shame I’d grossly shut my eyes . . .
. . . and slam it in.
content within my bondage.
Safe and warm
within your inner sanctum.
I’d call your name upon the wind when others wouldn’t have me,
or show up on your doorstep late at night when it got cold,
or call you for your company when my steady woman left me
I’d close my eyes . . .
and whisper your name . . .
and obediently you came.
Fucking slaves . . .
we had no self-respect.
You were there
until she had me back.
True it brought joy and euphoric highs uncommon for us both
nowhere
ever nearing
love.
Sorry slave,
it’s not what I had promised.
Tearful slave,
what did you expect?
Did you deep-down really buy that line of no way we could lose
with the two of us relating lives on lies?
– circa 1989
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