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Gothic Rose: Part Six

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As you gaze 

     and come to recognize 

          the black fire within me,

               and realize you’re now claimed,

 

you say, “no gothic rose 

     can be dominated!

          Try to scorch my petals!

               Try torching my soul!

 

Until it’s ashes 

     are lost in the wind,

          I dare you!”

               I nodded.

 

“Challenge accepted,”

     I whispered. 

          Parting your petals 

               until I was as deep as I could go.

 

You feel this bleach-white statue

     slithering in and out of you.

          Then you attack…

                like your vagina possesses teeth…

 

And puncture 

     with your daggers,

          their tips scratch, 

               then grind,

 

lacerating me,

     with every powerful stroke

          that I push in and out of you.

               The lips of your vagina now bloody,

 

your teeth now blood-soaked, 

     no squirting of thick white creme

          out from my stone-hard penis,

               I withdraw forever from inside you.

 

This statue now bleeding

     streams of blood, thick and red,

          your torment has ended,

               and mine has only begun!

     

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