Maneater

She gestured, “Come.”
I did so quickly.
Time is not an old man's friend.
It grinds and doesn't often offer
Someone lovely, someone living,
Gazing up from my own bed,
Appearing to be cherishing
The thought that she'd devour me.
I saw no reason to hang back,
No reason to not be consumed.
There are less pleasant ways to die,
And, worse, I thought, if I don't come,
She'll leave to look for someone else.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-06-01 at 01:37

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yes, kant can The PoetBay support member heart!
i have a strange feeling, it's kind of a sexual dismiss, we should behave as knight in bed and not the opposite, a dominant wife will soon feel unhappy
2018-06-01


yes, kant can The PoetBay support member heart!
like a big shell, she will start by the legs
2018-06-01