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deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Satyr's Lust Rising
wild-eyed
game coqued
long and heavy laden
and then the beat drops
and the bass starts,
subterranean tremors
begin to rock the body
and you don't stop
no you don't stop
dub-step,
lips swollen
hips moving
her thighs wide and forced open
feeling the heat, a demon's reap
A Satyr's Lust Rising
a heady rush
she feels a fever
her cherub face flushed
his hands violate her skirt's length
slowly moving up and down her
rump and thighs
her body trembles
with each and every stroke
of his firm hands applied
an itch that can't be scratched-the levy just broke
the warm nectar flows-just like that
nasty.....welts and scars of passion
…..and the Satyr's Lust is Rising
his words, an erotic fire
teasing the depths
of her libidinous moon,
wet with desire
the wanton, ferocity
of each and every stroke so deep
his powerful haunches lift her up
from the floor, knocking her off her feet
sounds of divine passion,
squelched within the throes
of a languished kiss........
(…....I bet y'all didn't know this ol' Satyr could “still” bump like this)
…....the Satyr's Lust is Rising
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