Follow The Leader
From afar, a glowing beyond all glowing,
A mortal statue, a Venus by the lake,
The body of woman, white hills, white thighs,
Slender feet dipped in the crystal waters,
A voyeuristic view, an arousal of the loin,
A following of the leader, of nature’s calling,
A nervous approaching with great caution,
An utterance from soft, red, honeyed lips,
“Come with me. My lair is empty.
Come fill it with your heart and soul.
Throw yourself into my silky arms,
As I sing you eternal love songs.”
I followed the leader and sank into love,
She, a Goddess, and her body a shrine,
I was that savage servant plowing into her,
With my nameless self forever,
As love cut into my flesh like a vengeful whip,
And beat me upon love’s thrashing floor.
Who am I, but a slave, a no name slave?
She is still a Venus and I, a floundering fool.
I live on her island, her demonic island.
Her religion is my religion.
She is a beast inside a woman’s body.
Her lovely legs are of supple porcelain.
Her silky skin still melts my nervous heart.
Her soft words are made out of molten steel.
Her womanhood is a succulent volcano,
And I send the lava flowing back into it.
Then she throws me back into the lonely night,
Yet she reaches out and I lose myself again.
I followed the leader and became a slave.
A slave to my loin and what it made me do.
This sort of happened to me, but not as bad as it did to him.
