glass-of-red-wine-spilled-on-a-white-carpet

Truth

I will arrive in a black strapless bra
and a hole poked pink underwear, nothing more.

I will dance free
legs up, hands down
buttocks-this way and that way.

I will eat with my hands
lick runaway soup from my elbow
and set free toxic kilos-on the rectum scale
no need to stand on ceremony
no cause to impress.

I will kiss eyes wide open
hands behind my back
and a quiz on my forehead.

We will make love
No! I will ignite a fire
No! I will die in your arms perhaps
hell No! we will turn into beasts
yes, in cold fashion
yank my bra and aim for both holes
let my heels be.
I expect nothing more than
a growl to be followed way way later by a shriek.

I will rise and march away in my red heels
am I a bear to insist on a cuddle?
not a word from your form spread victorious
on mortified sheets
love is taboo, no heart business
this valentine, just two beasts.

I will arrive in a black strapless bra
and a hole poked pink underwear
nothing more.

Image: Google

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