Sexual
Release
SLAM!
The car door closes,
as her future did,
long ago.
The stale cigarette takes a side,
on her slightly torn lip.
She hates the unnecessary talk,
preempting the predictable,
“Go ahead and suck my cock.”
20 dollars.
20 dollars is the price tag for her pride.
30 for all of her pain and suffering.
But all the money in the world,
can’t change this man’s fate.
The car halts on a grassy patch.
The seatbelt clicks off,
like the horny revolver.
He’s just another snake
Trying to slither in the slit in her thigh
His pants are drawn off,
Delicately by the devil herself.
Instead of the warmth of her mouth,
He feels the cold hand of her gun.
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