Nasty

Crowd... Pulsing light... Sound waves...
Yet, another night...
You picked her innocence from plaited and sweet flesh.
You are a pro - She’s not.
You do it all the time - She’s never even thought.
You’re sweet at first - She’s smile.
Twelve-fifteen...
She is naked with you near by.
Now your mask is taken,
Now your grim is washed,
Indifference...
...you drool and rage on top.
She can’t say: “no”.
She’s wrapped in misery.

And you get exited and amused;
When she bleeds inside
When she screams within
When her virgin shell
Ripped through by evil sin...

She think; she is with a man.
You know she is just prey.
Every new breath brings a dull pain.
You at your best, put on a nice show.
You are truly high,
When stuffing your pride down her dry throat.
She bites a lip and asks for more.
How unpredictable we can be
when a pleasure knocks on our door.

And you get exited and amused;
When she feel your heat
When she kiss you mouth
When her nails imbibe into your skin
And your both blood blend in evil sin.

She woke up and found that you are already gone.
She will clean her wound with smell of the dawn.
She not a girl today,
You never were a man.
She will get on with life,
And maybe will find a match,
But at the present moment
She needs to clean a mess;
Adhesive residue and vomit beside bed.

Crowd... Pulsing light... Sound waves
You are alone - She is alone
Lots out there to choose from...


December 20, 1996
wrt: Andrey Prudnikov