by DaddyO
She had parched eyes
So far removed
From the threat of
Relationship tears
One wonders
If merely
A solitary drop
Of Visine
Could replicate
The forlorn intricacies
Of romantic separation.
My comb-toothed fingers
Pulled her head back
By the base of her braids.
Unable to escape,
Vice clamped to the nape,
She probably just
Wanted to spit on me.
Instead her thirsty lips
Produced a paltry puff
Of condescension
That I promptly devoured
With a tongue probing kiss.
The left side of her face bled
With latent lipstick liquidity
Summoning the smirk
Of Batman's arch nemesis.
The right side was painted
Equally red
With a Jack of Hearts cameo.
Her stiff pink nipples
Pushed her slippery breasts
Away from the rest
Of her brassiere.
It slid off her writhing body.
Her mascara, not yet running,
Was jogging at a brisk pace.
I held the flogger
Up like a pirate
And she said I looked like
The Skipper
On Gilligan's Island.
*"Why I Oughta"*
Laughter was now overflowing
From where her smile started.
These unexpected tears
Are just as salty.
And still produce
The same response
Below