- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Love of a Call Girl
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The cigarette has burned her red lips black,
As night consumes her broken cries of lust.
The man has brought her heart glistening back.
His touch overwhelms at every wayward thrust.
As night consumes her broken cries of lust,
The ghost of love’s whimper has called her name.
His touch overwhelms at every wayward thrust,
And now she knows nothing can stay the same.
The ghost of love’s whimper has called her name.
The blood that coursed along her veins turns blue,
And now she knows nothing can stay the same.
The photography love had vied for bruised.
The blood that coursed along her veins turns blue,
The cigarette has burned her red lips black,
The photography love had vied for bruised,
The man has brought her heart glistening back.
