Tonight.

Note: Mature content. Not advisable for children. 

The throaty laugh, they decisive eyes,
they spoke of deception running so deep
that a ship could sink and be lost at sea,
forever. Holding that hand with the bright
red nail at the end of each finger, she bites her
lips seductively and puffs out her bovine
bosom, with the hope that by the end of tonight,
it would have been thoroughly massaged, rubbed,
cupped, moaned against, again, and again, until
no more; the moon will not witness such ecstasy
and pleasure, and yet, the stars shall not bear to see
the tears rolling down each face, as each drowns their
sorrows in muffled cries of guilty pleasure,
and hopeful lies. She was a power that could not be stopped;
moreover she didn’t want to be stopped-
she wanted satisfaction and she wanted love,
and she wanted (in layman’s language) just wild,
casual men fulfilling her needs; her needs
that were indefinite, but she knew, as faith is bound
to keep people hopeful, that in these “wild, casual men”
she’d find her man who’d fulfill her carnal wishes,
and more so, who’d respond to her reckless plans with plans
even more unbelievable. But until then, she was just a doll,
who made love to men each night with purpose in her heart,
hoping that one of them would understand that it was not sex
that she had with them, she had bared herself to them
and all she wanted in return was for them to do the same.
She wanted their souls in her bare, naked hands.

The well tailored suit served one purpose,
it drew him attention, of everyone in the room
and one could feel the heat he emitted-
and he was not just himself (his goddamning looks)
but his money and power that permeated in
the room filled with cigar smoke- a heaviness
that royalty had just stepped in; and he was royalty after all.
Successful, rich and plenty of ship in plenty of seas.
But tonight, he wanted more, more than handful,
tantalizing pieces of flesh; he wanted to satisfy someone,
he wanted to make love, to be able to communicate
with each nerve ending at between the thighs and
kiss every inch of a smooth, supple neck-he wanted
to make someone moan in pleasure, cry in pain,
explode in ecstasy, tingle every part with his tongue-
he wanted the sky to memorize the night and the
wind to take it to distant corners of the world, in celebration
of making love, of invoking the angel and the devil in you;
he wanted more than sex; he wanted a night to remember.
Little did he know, tonight he’d have it, he’d have it all
in exchange for his soul.

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