Poetry >IT HAPPENED BY THE RIVER
Denice Laws
IT HAPPENED BY THE RIVER
I lay on my back unprotected, a crab baked in the dying summer solstice sun.
You dipped my boiling legs across your hips, proclaiming my baptism by fire,
eyes shining with the magic of the twilight hour.
Of course, you could have rolled me over and set me right at any time,
but you were sadistic enough to like my suffering.
You knew I did, too.
Every pinch along my soft breasts
with your flicking tongue and hungry fingers
stabbed the air out of my brain until thinking was painful.
Only the need for you could be made sense of.
Prostrate on the altar of your wickedness:
A Succubus of Shallowness and Lust.
We hid beneath cloaks of sarcasm and quick wit,
the blood offering barely noted.
We danced like witches on the funeral of my innocence...