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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Stillness
She'd kneel just like a statue - still as stone
Abandoned in a garden, half in shade;
She will not move; although he makes her moan
As quietly as soft words that degrade
Her conscientious efforts to ensure
That she is worth the candle; and the wax
He drips upon her cool flesh is a cure
For boredom, as he draws her up and slaps
Her face, her breasts, her belly and her mound;
And remarks, as she shudders at his fun,
That she is just a whore for him to pound
Over and over until she's begun
To take some pleasure from his whispered tone;
And loves the stillness once he's hard as stone.
Abandoned in a garden, half in shade;
She will not move; although he makes her moan
As quietly as soft words that degrade
Her conscientious efforts to ensure
That she is worth the candle; and the wax
He drips upon her cool flesh is a cure
For boredom, as he draws her up and slaps
Her face, her breasts, her belly and her mound;
And remarks, as she shudders at his fun,
That she is just a whore for him to pound
Over and over until she's begun
To take some pleasure from his whispered tone;
And loves the stillness once he's hard as stone.
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