- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Tainted
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Touch me not for I am tainted.
The moths have devoured my butterfly wings.
I can no longer aspire to new heights.
When you soar above clouds and self,
the fall is hard to take.
Screeching through my downward spiral,
the sheer velocity excites me,
more so than ever before.
It may be fun flying with angels,
but the fall is the best part.
Submerging in sin and self-indulgence,
basking in the glow of my harlotry,
my heart palpatates,
pulse races,
adrenaline courses through my veins.
Orgasmic pleasure of the greatest magnitude electrifies my every nerve.
To be touched now would be too much.
A flood I shed for you all.
