Nine
Chantene
sweet candy bar
discharged in my
cavity
hector me, vex
me, more excruciating
strikes in my
clitoris
pierve the liar where
the cloister gusts
voluptuous touch
smooth over my affliction
fabricate me with spite
abuse the sweetness and
make it coarse
lunge again.
Tilt. Shove. Stab.
Menace my interior and
exposed sex.