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deepundergroundpoetry.com

You animal

‘Dad.’ I whispered, complaining, the most I’d ever contemplated 
with a woman was asking little Amelie to the year six school dance, and I 
liked her. Dad was insistant, fire in his eyes. My innocence was his
as we entered the red-light district hell-house.

‘He’s with me, Zarella,’ He was my captor, 
my guardian and my father as he growled proudly. Zarella nodded,
not questioning my clear lack of age.
‘We’ve got this one on our books.' She tapped her book

with red finger nails. 'Though, currently, we are finding need
to drug her so that she complies.’ Zarella's purring voice 
dripped a Dutch accent. I only recognised it
from films, from the large breasted lady,

with hair that was as dead as the bearded man,
at a public house father had earlier taken me to.
‘Fine.’ He smirked. 
‘Are you free?’

‘Anything for you, Rowning, you know that.’ She smiled, taking my hand
from my father’s forced grip,
leading me up a daunting set of unclean, wooden stairs. 
‘Just let yourself in little one. There won’t be a problem.’ I won’t deny

I did as I was told, my father was still close behind. 
He talked me through the entire act.
It was only after my unfinished stem was inside
the cave of silence he left me well alone.

Strangely, breasts weren’t as frightening
as first they appeared and kissing a woman,
even if there was no response was that of blossom
in spring. Her eyes flickered a few times, though by the time 

I was in the full throws, I didn’t pay much attention to that pretty,
foreign face.
‘Please...’ The word dribbled from her cracked, dry lips 
like mucus. It made me sick, not figuratively, 

quite literally.
‘Stop.’ I recoiled as her eyes opened -
a bunny stunned by lights on the highway. My body
curled into a ‘U’ shape on the bed.

‘I’m sorry,    
    I’m sorry,      
  I’m sorry.’
Water was tapping on the roof, 






water was tapping.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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