- Erotic Poetry
- Assethesia
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Not a loss of sensation, in the least
More, a piquing medicine
Applied to areas of need
Places unspoken and unconquerable.
The patient comes
Seeking second opinion, of course!
His right, his plight
Hoping, perhaps, this time, to be cured?
“Disrobe, Sir.”
“Show me the affected area.”
“Perhaps, something was overlooked…”
“I am certain I can help you.”
He meets her naivete’ with reptilian guard
Slit eyed. Certain.
He owns her, in that moment.
He salivates. Considers his prey.
She meets his glance; bristles, a tad
Registers a small chill, yet proceeds.
(Perhaps, t’was only a draft?)
Little frightens her. Much should have.
Minutes become hours.
Hours become days.
Days become months, and then years.
Treatment continues.
“Show me the affected area?”
”Please, Sir?”
“It is difficult to determine the prognosis,
But, sedation is ever offered. May I soothe you?”
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