Tarotscope

 

She deftly turns, the worn cards, from a deck, that's bespoke

To tell her tale of lechery, through her cartomancy, tarotscope

Recreating a trio, of five pointed stars, each one of them, six

As I'm beguiled by her craven, raven beauty and ruby red lips

And she's, slyly, back in my mind, purging my insanity's dread

Murmuring in her witch's tongues, with all pentagrams spread

With her black magic tarot, I've soon succumbed, to her spell

We've been here before, so I know what her readings, foretell

I'm shaking, with expectation, for she is reversing each card

Her icy, porcelain skin, is still silkily soft, my member is hard

Because I know what is next, for on 'The Lovers', she'll linger

And she'll conjure, the image, of my moistened middle finger

I'm drawn into her misleading unreality, of mirrors and smoke

For she's not selling me sex, she's selling me, a pig in a poke

I can see, what's ahead, with all of her horrors, hideously rife

With her rotting depravity disgorging, she wants me to writhe

I awake, to the same fate, from tongues, to the satanic verse

With everything reversed, before me, to aid her witch's curse

I know it won't be today, or tomorrow, it'll be another day later

We'll be on a stained mattress, for her needs, I'll always cater