Capillary Crucifixion

He stood beside the basin and watched her Cower before him and his musk enchantment. He took great pleasure seeing how Her breast would quiver when he stroked her side. He held her underwater for a moment with his hands Just barely constricting the vessels. The thought of how the water would ripple Off her blushing thighs had caught his tongue And he withdrew her just to see her wet. Her eyes held fast, Bashful, And besetting. Seizing the inches of his nimble fingers. Subjecting her skin to the capillary crucifixion. Biting and blundering. Burning yet benign. Uttering a name with no face. Tugging a phrase And sucking on the wastelands. Eating at the seed who Felt itself serve and strive. As the steam rose to blanket their breath He thought of ways to keep this going. He thought of nights with a bitter wife When she took him on the kitchen counter With no incentive but a bad day at work. He thought of her and felt himself churn Not with lust but with a spiteful yearn And thought of her smoothly seeping.