He kept saying he loved her. She pouted,
And said, if he did which she doubted,
She’d never have known it,
The way that he’d shown it,
And sex, too, not all it was touted.
Tag: love
The disconnect
“Want a root?” he asked. Rather succinct.
She’d thought love and sex pleasantly linked,
But not so, it would seem;
The brute act and the dream
Not divorced, but yet sadly distinct.
Keep it simple
Sex as sacrament; rather mundane.
Leave out God, and embrace the profane.
Basic animal lust!
Invoke love, if you must,
But enjoy the fuck, don’t tax your brain!
What’s love got to do with it?
By some feminine sudden caprice,
She consented! Would wonders not cease?
Not from love, she explained,
(Her excitement all feigned),
Just to shut him up, get some damn peace!
The girl next door
Though her tits are just bumps on her ribs,
“I might marry you one day” he fibs.
She says “I love you too…
When I’m ready to screw,
And I’m old enough to, you’re first dibs!”
The girl most likely
She was fond of a root, just that way,
User-friendly, perhaps you could say,
In the back of boys’ cars,
Stairways, under the stars,
But no time for love, only for play!
Fatal words
Her confession of love misconstrued,
From her words he was led to conclude
That she wouldn’t say no,
Which she didn’t, although,
If she had, she might still have been screwed!
Practice versus theory
The best whore ain’t got no heart of gold;
She’s a woman can be bought and sold,
No damn love-talk and shit,
Just get off her damn kit,
And do what a man wants when she’s told.
Begging the question
All the flowers, the sweet little rhyme,
Was his courtship charade, mere mime?
Did he truly intend
They be wed in the end,
Or was fucking him wasting her time?
Pass the ketchup
Sex is sex, nothing very profound,
And assuming the low moral ground,
Love or not, it’s what’s real,
Like sharing a meal;
With luck, there’s enough to go round!