Member Poem

Call me
Lucifer,

the itch in your mind
telling you it’s fine
to touch me

blame the wine and my
devilish hips,

too drunk to taste
the sin on my lips, I am

disposable sex,
scripture burned on my
chest

blame the skirt and my
stiletto heels,

too drunk to tell you
how it feels, call me

she-devil, siren,
vixen and shrew,
I am

asking for this
with my infernal flesh,

too drunk to say no
as you hike up my dress, you are

instinct’s victim
come Sunday,
forgiven

blame the breasts and my
wicked thighs,

throw your sins on the women
who see past your lies, you are

the itch in my mind
telling me it’s fine
to touch me

blame the wine and your
fiendish claws,

too drunk to say no
as you tighten your jaw, call me

baby girl, angel
don’t make a sound,
I am

asking for this with my
devilish hips,

too drunk to taste
the sin on your lips, and you

call me
Lucifer.