Rip And Tear

until it is done
they will count their arrivals
on the tips of their tongues
dug deep in the cisterns
awaiting a splash

until she is spent
in these feverish corridors
gaped, broken and bent
while sharks encircle
the scent of spunk

until he cries
between the softest spurs
where inhibition dies
deprive the depraved
of all dignity

until it is wrought
lips and tongues and breasts
butts and dicks, once, taut
trembling innocently
a puddle of letch.