1 min read

"Then, when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin...."

Fatigue and sweat,

Split pomegranates

And ripe berries on the table,

Desire oozing,

Amalgamating with right and wrong.

Ice cubes between my teeth,

Roses under my feet,

That look ties my legs to the bed,

I sink on his mattress with his weight.

He fists my hair with the hand that has his wedding band,

He nibbles my earlobe and I split open,

Like a blossoming flower on an early spring.

He explores me like a traveler,

He whispers filth with the same mouth that spoke marital vows in the eyes of his God

And Infront of his loved ones.

It's happening,

Rationality muted with the screams of climax.

It's happening once again,

Pillars of his matrimony shunned,

Lust and love become one.

He is the forbidden fruit,

And I, still the paramour.


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