07-31-2011, 10:48 AM
I bet he was a marvellous fuck.
Enough to tear up any girl
whose bodice dare entice his hand.
Dirty as the changeling
who strode the streets of Liverpool,
the lonesome babe he once had been,
one should not be loath to think
he might have caused their loins to shake
like a chimney in a storm,
collapsing on the wet flagstones.
The hayloft yawns and leans, tired,
the storm beating its supple frame.
As you lay on the yellow bed
he has arranged for you,
standing tall and naked, grim,
a window over his shoulder
showing naught but endless black,
interrupted by silver as one rain drop
catches the moon, be thankful
these are not the moors,
and he's in a good humour.
Enough to tear up any girl
whose bodice dare entice his hand.
Dirty as the changeling
who strode the streets of Liverpool,
the lonesome babe he once had been,
one should not be loath to think
he might have caused their loins to shake
like a chimney in a storm,
collapsing on the wet flagstones.
The hayloft yawns and leans, tired,
the storm beating its supple frame.
As you lay on the yellow bed
he has arranged for you,
standing tall and naked, grim,
a window over his shoulder
showing naught but endless black,
interrupted by silver as one rain drop
catches the moon, be thankful
these are not the moors,
and he's in a good humour.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe