Thought- Nasty One Poem by Daffodil Decarie

A starving vixen,
I lay waiting–
In wilderness, lost,
wanting to be confused.
In gothic darkness,
longing to devour your flesh.

Raised to be modest,
hypocrisy shies my deeds–
Should I grab and hold
that which you behold,
for it is not brain
nor muscle,
but your vein.

High blood boiling,
pressure upon my skin–
Release me! Take me again,
like this morning.
I am in pain, miserable
in wishful thinking,
my warmth raging.

Slice, sweet raisinette,
add me to your French toast–

Lotion my womanhood
with your shea butter
and whipped cream.
I swear, you will not beg,
for I will comply
as you rake my hair
and shove my head
to your bursting vein–

I take you not,
but in love bites
I bait you in.
You loop breaths of relief
for you can’t wait.

You have to hold it,
for I’ve yet to touch
this entity before me–
Impatience overtakes
your whole being,
You slide like a serpent
into this vixen’s hole–

Deep beyond the depth
of my womb.
I have taunted Mammon,
and I plead guilty
moan in surrender
as you somewhat laugh,
cry a groan
in painful elation–

I win a million stars
as you shoot meteors
upon my face,
my neck upturned–
Success.