Please- do go ahead.
A toad could kiss,
My soft shroud,
But a butter knife,
Would sooner be welcomed.
You should attain to be as I am and shall henceforth be.
Bound with legs together.
I smelt her once.
Grease laid her hair to rest,
And salt coddled her fine brow.
Bucking with the expected panic, her laboured stone pulsated,
Her hollow screams were callous as treacle.
Moments later her thighs were covered,
With blood, her virginity smothered,
With stitches to heal and blind,
Her body was once a meadow,
Now a garden for seeds to sew.
One girl to her culture,
And the repeated mistakes on her own saplings.
Her only regret was- I did not thank them.
