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Thank you for smoking me.

Click, and the janitor switched
off the heat and the lights.
The office was finally quiet
for the final time this year.
I knew you were waiting
among those cold shades of grey.
In the little dark room
sandwiched between the stairs.
Who knew what fiery plans
lurked in your mind.
Imagination’s child,
you have been tormenting me.
All day and all week,
your foot’s been on the gas.
I could hear you breathing
when I walked into the dark.
There was no hesitation
when you slipped out of shadows.
Your eyes confirmed my
otherwise regular silhouette.
You knew I’ve been making
lush poetry in my hyper mind.
A pretty sound of delicate cloth
falling confirmed your intent.
I couldn’t help inhaling you
as you closed in on me.
The cobwebs cling wrapped
me and my raging feelings.
Grateful was a thought
that I finally experienced.
Your tendril hands held me
to your body completely bare.
Was I an unwilling victim,
or a most thankful prey?
She was torrid to the touch
her body smells enveloping me.
A sudden silken scarf covered
my eyes as dark became black.
Her face swooped down quick
and pecked away my virgin neck.
Bites, bruises, rained down
as she embraced me into her fire.
There was no respite, no rest,
just lust in brimstone continuum.
Till morning arrived, she burnt me.
And when she left me, I was ash.

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