sometimes good people do bad things

everyone’s a saint before they sin to get their own way you could slide your arms around me seductively fluttering your quaint poetry like angel feathers up and down my spine open me wide like a new book whisper your warm prayers over my … throat steal my voice stroke my tongue with your words in exchange for mine unheard before laying me out like a fresh sacrifice sometimes good people do bad things like re-imagining the safety in soft poetry kissing skin listening to what’s beating underneath all that soft poetry Candide Diderot. ‘24