So many times I wanted to be raped, <br />In a silent whisper, <br />Under the dense cover of a stormy night, <br />By wild strangers. <br /> <br />My crescent moon, like the bud of a primrose, <br />Longed trespassers, <br />To have a lippy suck up to the dungeon core, <br />A tease to my latent whore . <br /> <br />And when the spring evolved with monsoons' tide, <br />I invited riders, <br />To be ridden in their clumsy-colossal rides, <br />Day and night. <br /> <br />Hankering upon the imaginary portion of what might be, <br />I processed my libido, <br />To be torn, dug, hammered, stirred, and wined, <br />On dissection table. <br /> <br />The rubbing of the juice of my nature's will, <br />By cutting seals, <br />Of psychophysical tuned tornado, <br />I projected my prime. <br /> <br />So many, som many Tom, Harry, Dick, <br />Sick and weak, <br />Sparrow, street dogs, he-goat and rabbits, <br />Did slip. <br /> <br />And yet, and yet, -the old age did cause, <br />Gathered moss, <br />On the rolling mind of temporal time, <br />I descry.<br /><br />Bazi alis Subrata Ray<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-un-contented-mistress/
