the perfected soul mate,
the only one to whom i could relate;
loving me (apparently),

endlessly;
physically;
spiritually;
and mentally,

as he and i epitomized true monogamy.

he constantly fucked me raw,
he assuredly fucked me hard;
and when we came…
this was our ultimate reward;

i constantly loved and relished
in his sexual essence,
ever hugging, spooning and bowing to
sexual afterglow’s presence;
to him i did pledge my utmost fealty
for, he fucked me so voraciously,
what else could i possibly do?
to whom else could i turn,
who could effectively make my clitoris yearn,
have me fiending and moaning,
as the passionate fires burned?

but alas, the fairy tale would
eventually take a realistic turn,
each time that he grunted and groaned with
abject pleasure spilling, spewing, and
releasing his sperm;

frequently
ejaculating his essence within me,
as his warriors fought and swam voraciously;
backstrokes;
butterflies,
the common freestyle,
all bent and determined to get me with child;
impregnating me was once their natural,
true objective,
now hidden and immersed in their microscopic form
was a new element…
…subtle, and oh, so very
destructive;

death rode shotgun on their backs,
stealthily wielding them as it’s
transportational tool;
bare backed bronco rider galloping
through the core,
bent on razing the blissful sexual allure;

wielding the curved sickle
slashing through my womb,
no artful theme music accompaniment
symbolizing my eventual doom;
the microscopic, viral interloper,
bringing death as the eventual reward for
my loyal sexual pleasure.

see,
i had been smug in my naiveté;
immersed in what i deemed to be
sexual monogamy;
no longer needing to wrap it up,
for he would be the only one
that i fucked;

but alas,
whilst i was secure and content
in only fuckin’ he,
buying into his seductive duplicity,
he was fuckin’ “her”, and “they”, and “she”;
spilling lies with persuasiveness,
that there would only be me;
though, synonymous with he spilling his seed
within “her” and “she”,
he inevitably collected a viral anomaly;

fuckin’ them when he was lucid,
no drunken bullshit excuses;
yet, condom requirements remained
perfectly elusive, as he collated and stored
their vaginal fluids;
bringing death’s wrath to the
seeming sanctity of my bed;

as i
remained
unaware of his parasitic emblems
deeply embedded,
subject to his ejaculation’s behest;
now, death rode determinedly

i,
the new victim of
its quest;

****
'Fro