Stories

Femme Fatal

bad poetry

Fingers sweeping past the ankle
Eyes closed, never more thankful
Glancing touch blows every sense
Laying still, give up all defence

Fingers gently skating up the shin
Inch by inch, head now in a tailspin
Every tiny movement just so carefree
Please don’t stop when you reach the knee

To the knee and across the patella
The moves you make are so stellar
Along the thigh headed for the waist
You’ve got me tense, you’ve got me braced

Knees already turned to jelly
Your fingers now circling my belly
Moving slowly towards my chest
Oh my god I have been blessed

Fingers traced passed the Adam’s Apple
You climb on top, you begin to straddle
Hot, wet dreams of you going down south
Did not feel your hand over my mouth

Shaking head, cannot breath, cannot oppose
Hand over mouth, fingers pinching nose
Try to scream, try to thrash, try to bite
You sadistic bitch you’re impossible to fight.

Second hand wrapped around my throat
Fingers so tight they feel like a garrotte
Hurt so much, pain so bad, wish I had a shot of meth
Is my life really over, is this really my last breath?

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4 Comments

  1. Now I see why there are 2 Femmes there.

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