Heavy Retribution

So, ye thought to label me a whore?
In days hence I was lust’s courtesan
Staining my lips with thy cum,
And love’s distresses.

Thy cock whispered sultry sonnets to my skin
Delving, dipping as quill to ink
Discovering my liquid secrets,
And sweet fucking poetry.

Truth has shown herself scarce
Amidst the flapping of thy forked tongue
That drips lies, flattery,
And the essence of my foolishness.

Poor Bastard! Ye cannot beat Fate at her game!
For even as thou hast quit my cunt
Thy cum did not...
And a daughter ye shall have.