- Erotic Poetry
- Bruising the Virgin Bride
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In her purple room,
Under a lavender quilt,
She's having magenta feelings.
He pounds upon her lips,
Nestled between her legs,
But he pauses before conquest,
Repelled by his own desire,
Afraid of his own phallic power.
He is all hard,
Even his heart,
And she wants him to colonise her,
Native to his master race.
He lives inside her now,
But not literally
And she wants to live inside him,
Though he fears the release,
And this makes her want it more.
On top and underneath,
She begs his hands,
But he backs against the wall,
And taking out his indifference to her desire
He beats her with it,
Bashing till the rejection feels like mud on a silk dress.
Eventually though,
This will change,
Because she hoped it so and not because he is thinking.
- COMMENTS
AmandaSilverabout 14 years agoI love the imagery, the word bruising in the title and then the use of the purples to help paint the picture, and the description of mud on a silk dress. Fantastic.
