Fist Fuck
he shoved his fist
up her pre-oiled pussonian
and rearranged
her organs
to accommodate
his needs;
she stirred
when her tubes
sucked vacuumed
her eggs, broken shells
fleshy yolks, evoke
then vacate
when he pulls his fist;
her womb settles
like patina fragments
in a Monet landscape
portrait; occasionally
they liked to
paint their
macabre
just before the break
of sunrise when
the rooster crowed
its best
DIVA of DARKNESS 
Very good.
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April 9, 2013 at 11:58 am
Much appreciated, D. Thanks for stopping by and reading!
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April 9, 2013 at 5:19 pm