~ They call Her … ~

~ They call Her … ~

Promiscuous,

Smiling feline,

Cougar,

Dangerous un-kohl-ed eyes,

Her ripened body ever-ready to be suckled on …

Arms inviting to play,

Later to gluttonize and slay

Embrace … drawing in and hushing for a while

Drugging, doping, those indecorous expressions,

Silent, arcane, honed over the years

Stealthily moving in the hustling throng

Snaking craftily through the sinuous alleyways …

Hidden from the masses,

Marijuana of the classes

She is the lady, my mistress,

The woman of the taste

Addicted to the compelling smell of manly sweat,

Over the posh abruptness of any suave heady scent

Silk of her splendid tinseled gown slithering,

Rousing the hard tan leather of hand-stitched shoes,

Carving the craved way,

To the blue gratification room …

Where she once was brought by the one,

She had demanded for love, so wrong,

Where fondled and nicked was her bosom,

Soul scratched till the bottom,

Nickel and dimed was her nubile body, so young

Where she became prey to the hunger of ever-hungry race

And she was left only unloved, bare, and eternally sore …

Would she still care what they name her now?

Stacking away the tattered tapestry,

Loaded with finery, and elegance her style,

She is plainly staging her payback role!