- Erotic Poetry
- Madame
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Like a tired black widow
She greats you at the door
Like cracked paint the lines under her make-up
As she smiles at you once more
Once insider her house
She leads you to a room of pleasures
Ripe peaches topped with juicy berries
Remind you of her faded treasures
Honeyed nectar does not taste as sweet
From younger lips than hers
And as you taste you've memories
Of when thin bones had curves
She's done alright for now she owns
Her old madam's house of pleasure
But it's not her girls but older days
That'll always be your treasure.
