Why are you here?
Back to gloat?
Your teasing
More cruel than any whip.
You mortify with hot tales
Of your delectable body
Writhing under the fondling
Of hot lustful hands.
You, squirming,
As countless cocks
Impale you into
The screaming, moaning rapture
That I once knew.
Am I right?
You remain, tongue-tied
Yet, you undo your dress
Naked beneath
To let me know
Just why you’ve come back.
Should I succumb?
God, yes, yes, yes
I’m an angry wasp
At an open pot of jam
