The Potter
...and there she stands as if on air
A light wind blowing through her hair.
A Demi Queen..
..using language that is so obscene
I have to turn away.
But she seems to know the words I want to say..
,,whip me.strip me
Pip me to the post.
After all I am first and foremost a male of the species
She's
A dark Demon who seems bent on my fall.
The Demi Queen is just a dream but the tracks across my back from the belial, belie the fiction as a fact..
..and later...
..As I sit upon the kitchen floor and look at my reflection in the safety glass of the gas oven door,
I wonder why I dream of pain and wonder,hope I'll dream again of wanton lust.
In the dust I shake off from my clothes I rise again but know she knows I wait for her to float in on the evening air.
And in the slip of moulding clay I'll feel the whip again
Today and in the meantime I shall pray.