Gluttonous Woman


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Oh look at you!
You’re not an enigma so much anymore
But a Sunday crossword

Let him take a look at you
You know he’s a shark bobbing in water
Waiting for first blood

It’s no longer an imagination
You’re at the pinnacle of a tiny death
How easy the gain is when your body breathes and blazes

There’s no longer a battle when your hands are down by the waist
His kisses depressurize your face
Your God can’t save you from the orgasm of your gluttonous demeanor

The tides climb higher and higher
Hands rub: a special seasoning; you’re at the brink of the moon
A candle light flicks on a seed furiously

And a seven inch fishes out in the sea
You burst the milk out of white

-Pennington

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