Cute, quaint, and perhaps a bit country

The smile of the angel
is torture and rapture.
The kiss of the whore
is always the same.
Is it any wonder
we expect our pleasure
to come with a measure
of delirious pain?

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.