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The Cellar

A barenaked bulb swings overhead …  
Chloroform fills the air, stripping sensibilities  
   
Cold steel encircles   
bruised, boneless limbs  
   
Clovers biting    
nipples plump and throbbing    
   
A gloved hand crashes down    
across swollen lips      
   
As he licks    
the salty    
venom    
of her resolve  
   
A limp form left clinging to St Andrews  
Like a rag doll splitting at its seams    
Giving testimony of amorphous suffering.  
   
Her pain    
an opiate for    
his private delectation
Written by WickedWays
Published
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