The last 2 lines are perfect for this. Nicely done

Damn…you always take me somewhere with your poetry. This one is no exception. Give those last 2 lines their just dues. They’re fantastic, my friend

Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Raven. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Mary. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Means a lot to me. Appreciate you.

Damian

You’ve gotta give yourself more credit, Damian.
The last lines indeed suppressed my own voracious appetite. The last stanza is my favorite.
Nice spill my friend. xx
~P.G💋

That’s razor-sharp and sinuous—like a poem with fangs. The alliteration of “verbal viper” and “voracious appetite” creates a rhythmic coil of menace and desire, as if the speaker’s confronting a charmer who cloaks cunning beneath sweetness. The image of truth dangling just out of reach—“suspending the obvious”—gives this a wicked elegance.

Your writing has only improved with time, Damian. Your struggle with the ending paid off in a victorious way.

Great poem/

And ty for your comments, they’re much appreciated.

This is so incredibly scintillating. You write this succubus with the virtuosity of a poet who knows her craft and knows it well. I could feel this deep in my core. I was seduced and stimulated by your fiery sensual words.

John

Unapologetically penned, Brenda. This is raw passion unleashed my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

hello beautiful poetess thank you most graciously good evening 💕

You write this story with such clarity and weave it into an engaging scene that reaches out and rivets my attention. Great poem.

John

Powerfully penned, Thomas. Excellent storytelling my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

You have expressed a real life tale with honesty and clarity.
I have been there. Got locked up for being drunk in public myself once.
I think I said to a police officer “Your a C…U…N…T. I didn’t say it i just spelt it out.
He didn’t understand. When he realised what I was saying I was thrown in the van.
I they took my clothes and gave me some grey prison scrubs. When I sobered up I started singing prison songs.
“He’s in the jailhouse now.” and Locked up by Akon. Some counties in England are stricker on booze than others. I have been out of my mind all over England, but Yorkshire was the place they locked me up. Don’t do it in Yorkshire.

Thanks for sharing this poem. I am glad to know I am not the only one.

regards
James

This sounds like such a Midwest thing. Great telling of the night!

Thank you so much.

This is an emotional tour de force of dark poetry my friend. You captivate me with this darkly lit poem. A real work of art.

John

Powerfully penned, Brenda. Great dark poetry my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

#?

An invitation that is hard to refuse. Strong tonic.

John

Thank you a lot. 🙂