On my back, tense, I wait
Your knife gleams in the firelight
anticipation; burning, great
your eyes glistening with delight.
Bring it down upon my skin
and slice it like a fresh, ripe peach
to find the sweetness there within
and suck it from me, like a leech.
I bleed for you, to quench your lust
as you thrust against my trembling thighs
I'm spilling sweetened liquid rust;
your satiation is my prize.
And when we're done you'll stitch me back
the way I was before
Until the next sharp breathed attack
that leaves us wanting more.
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