GUILT SONG

She allows him to kiss and stroke her sensual pores.
Lets him talk naughtily and hastily whilst she whispers," no" in her heart that sores.
Accepts gift from his good-ill hands of sinister motives.
Simultaneously reshuffling all she ever got from the,real other,treasured in her archives.

Her heart and conscience repeatedly choke her.

He simmers under her electric tongue and gentle illegal palms.
Within his soul no qualms.
He pleasure in her wet surfaces wiping away every sensitive hormone.
That's why the, true,one seldom tastes his bone.
Look,no trace of tentative demeanor nor sorry.
He does it sequentially with no worry.

The judge of truth,at last uproots the two thorny flowers.

By M.O.O aka C.E