I, sleight of hand, nimbly
bend convention; cast off
the missionary position and
focus, to first conjure,
then expose the underbelly
of your eclipsed sordid desires.
Well propped with paper and pen,
dark mistress of the dirty mark,
every inked line leaks each
thrust, stroke and arch.
Your gut grinds with a
certain hunger; my stories,
your feast. My trick, quick
fingered, your treat.
Curious you, watch and patiently
wait as I bait, cast and snag
the nasty couplings, contrary cravings,
your alter ego dressed in drag.
*~* Thank you for reading my poem. I truly hope you were pleased. Please take a moment to vote and maybe even leave a comment. I love getting any and all feedback. Thanks again! *~*