Sir, Sir,
We're finally alone.
And you've got it Coming.
I want to get these hands dirty,
this skin covered in sweat.
I want to feel you rigid and stiff beneath me.
I've been waiting for this Moment
ever since I saw the way
you made her stain porcelain
with that last kiss goodbye.
I can't promise I'll be good.
You have to admit
we're incompatible in a lot of ways.
Like for example,
your hair is thinning
and I haven't got all mine yet.
I can't help but giggle
as you stare me down from my bedroom door,
that handsome, fatherly
look in your eyes.
"Get over here, daddy!
You said you had a lesson to teach me,
at least if I promised to call you that."
Don't you want
to get me out of this dress that is two sizes too small?
It squeezes and lumps everything
into tight little ripe bumps.
This girl has been cruising,
and there's nothing like a father figure
to give her the bruising she deserves.
I know
you've been waiting for this for a Long time.
So have I.
I could tell how you looked right through
my mother, the bride.
When I saw the way you inhaled
the ink
right off the pages of my Diary.
When I caught you,
your tongue quivering as it ran down the binding.
I knew you were mine.
Cover over here.
I'll let you suck on my perfect Red lacquered big toe,
run your hairy paws along my inner thighs.
I promise
I won't even flinch when you whisper in my ear
and send long drops of spittle down my neck.
Come closer, Sir.
I only want to smell the sweat on your Breath,
twist tiny hands in your hair.
You see, I am a compassionate woman.
so I'll allow you the pleasure of my scent
as I wrap my pale thighs round your fragile neck
and suffocate every last plea for life right out of you.
Now the old woman can stop clawing at her Grave.
