Corpora Vilia

Corpora Vilia

thinks she could do it but never given chances

forever passed over never asked to dances

hang-nailed tears hide shredded plaster kiss

let the first cock slip in that stayed to piss

back seat sherbet-girls sucked sticky fingers

shovelled her vile aside guessed her minger

cold burning to fit in tempered unquenched

sucked stiff mouthful until she was drenched

well won’t she bring them all to their knees

carrying too much fat lipped lust and greed

been there done that better won awards

then jerking him off when he was bored

working it hard wastes time bitch it instead

rumour mongrel back alley corridors tread

lightly pray like mantis preach to the thick

while retching on seed that makes her sick

made to measure power cosplay clutch bag

longline daggered bra-faced tits that sag

a real drag to see her misshaped silhouette

he’ll put his cock between them for a bet

well-practised her killjoy lost soulless cheer

reeks of bad dressing room smells and fear

watch every play foiled every move spoiled

whips it out to leave her pure panties soiled

gathers others like her as gathering clouds

wears them darkly close in diseased shrouds

veils epidemic words with mosquito nets

still tongues his stained sheets after sex

tiresome sussed out before any damage done

fucked into old age yet still almost young

thinks she could do it and she’ll get hers yet

wipes his tool thanks but finds no regret