The Tongue Poem by S.W. Clark

The insidious spout
which drained crimson shame,
adorned with passion, pride and privlege.
This odious abyss with brawny control,
luring those who grapple its filthy bait.
She could have sensed its entrapment
She could have eased away
She could have fled,
but she listened,
and drew near it,
and drank some,
and dreamed-
away.