Monday, June 18, 2012

To Suit My Taste



Posted by "CavalierZee"

Bring me the siren,
that temptress of old
with dark, painted flesh,
with a mind brash and bold,
and a lust filled heart
that is otherwise gold;
the raven-haired beauty
who imperils my soul.

Bring me the Angel,
that most innocent lass;
a daughter of faith
who sits through the Mass
with dark, lurid visions
that prayer can’t surpass,
and drenched white cotton
‘neath her sweet, squirming ass.

Bring me the libber,
both cool and aloof,
who swears she’s above lust
(but can’t produce proof);
the thought of my dominance
puts her through the roof —
soft rope and hard flesh
will teach her my truth.

Bring me the brooder
with the pentagram ring,
swathed all in black,
‘cause that’s just her thing.
She’ll shield her eyes
from the light that lust brings;
but, given some time,
I will teach her to sing.

Bring me the dancer,
that vision of grace,
so light and so lithe,
not a hair out of place.
I’ll relish her dance
at the point of my mace,
as mascara streams
down her beautiful face.

And, while you’re at it,
bring the girl in the skirt
too large and too long,
with the billowy shirt
concealing pure beauty
I so long to pervert —
that vanilla, plain Jane —
I’ll have her for dessert.

[Poem by Secreted Sins]


Image by meyokee
Via: PhotoBucket

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