A bad day

“You gotta take me home
and fuck me good
or I will go mad.”
The words rolled
out her lips
like the sudden burst
of moisture
from an unexpected
erotic alarm
going off.

She gazed at me
lazily scrapping off
dead skin tissues
from under her
long sharp
scarlet nails.
Remnants from
last nights
cocaine addled
leather and rope dinner.

My best days
are when she has
a really bad day
at work.

There is something
to be said
about really bad
management.

Keep up
the good work
clueless
strutting boys
in ties and suits.

BOUND

I can still taste you
On my lips
In my mouth
Under the pores of my tongue

I can feel the pain
Nibbling away
Sinking in
Biting down

My fingers
Are still rolling around
In the cascade
Of your need

All I can see
As I gaze blankly
Is your eyes like slits
And your parted lips

Your cherry smell
Wafting around in my brain
Intoxicating me further
And further

Let me just lie down
For a few minutes
Of death
So I can be back in heaven.