Tarotscope

She deftly turns, the worn cards, from a deck, that's bespoke
To tell her tale of lechery, through her cartomancy, tarotscope
Recreating a trio, of five pointed stars, each one of them, six
As I'm beguiled by her craven, raven beauty and ruby red lips
 
And she's, slyly, back in mind, purging my insanity's dread
Murmuring in her witch's tongues, with all pentagrams spread
With her black magic tarot, I've soon succumbed, to her spell
We've been here before, so I know what her readings, foretell
 
I'm shaking, with expectation, for she is reversing each card
Her icy, porcelain skin, is still silkily soft, my member is hard
Because I know what is next, for on 'The Lovers', she'll linger
And she'll conjure, the image, of my moistened middle finger
 
I'm drawn into her misleading unreality, of mirrors and smoke
For she's not selling me sex, she's selling me, a pig in a poke
I can see, what's ahead, with all of her horrors, hideously rife
With her rotting depravity disgorging, she wants me to writhe
 
I awake, to the same fate, from tongues, to the satanic verse
With everything reversed, before me, to aid her witch's curse
I know it won't be today, or tomorrow, it'll be another day later
We'll be on a stained mattress, for her needs, I'll always cater