It was almost eleven o’clock and she was still bare
Her stomach was wrecking, feeling to sleep forever there,
The white sheet was messy all over
She was about to outfit herself for the last consumer.
She was notified to wear those bewildered dresses
To make them all wild and hungry for blisses,
But her under-womb treasure was crying like she’s hunted
She made a noise but none came and kiss her forehead.
The man in her room sighed with pleasure and bade a scary bye
Some suited, warm-blooded creatures were passing her by
Instead of being fatherly to her, they made her shy,
She strolled to the mirror to keep in secret her cry
And asked God to give her the serenity to be a butterfly.
A knock-knock happened on the door and her soft skin as well
Once again, her blossom will be taken out and will make the man swell,
She moved faintly for the sack of going into a deep silence
That was the last one; she was contracted to make him wildest.
When the reluctant hands felt tired to make herself a whore
He pulled her insanely close and fell glued on affectionate shore,
His face was intimated to her, trying to taste the flavor there,
Having kissed the flexion of pink rose-like soft lips, he started going under.
A thousand-mile was waiting to walk over, so he breathed again
The game had just started, more rounds left to play and give pain,
The girl was beautifully plated to gear up his veins
Few steps to go to get served under his brutal manly ensign.
He came upon her, rumbling like a hunter of the dark
Tongued her whole body with salivating lust,
Pressing her curly hair in unrest, he mouthed her chest
He kept her so tightly as if she was in the love-making nest.
Moving a little, he gripped her curves
She was praying to finish his utmost fantasy fast,
He held her hands with excessive care
The touch of masculinity that left him alone once.
.
That while was not so far
When the bed becomes the casket of the funeral and her eyes blur,
Her whole body was going to be flamed by devastating love
And no matter what happened, she had to give him juice of amour.
His dusky vision was molesting her hairy vagina
She closed her eyes to imagine her child named Lakshmi
She just needed to stay calm and tolerate his thirsty panorama,
Because her girl-child will stay hungry if she leaves the aura.
His pleasure in pain was hardly hurting her
She held his shaggy muscles to overcome the fear,
Trying to make him understand the pain on-going within her
But who hears? The man-world has always been an unstoppable fire.
After taking the fascinated infatuation out of the mind
He released one-night-lust-calmer lady
It was like, a venomous snake crawled so long across her back
And threw poisons all over the crying body.
.
Now, she is free, she can walk, fly and can reach anywhere
She put a happy smile on the face that her frightened heart wears,
After being free from the cage, she was curious to see her daughter who awaits
And only her eyes can make her tired-less.
All the pains that her organ bears become meaningful when she smiles
A piece of cake when bringing the gladness of winning the world, she cries
When her girl looks happy having a tiny chicken in dinner, she thanks Christ
At the end of the day, whoredom becomes her pride.
.
Whom we always judge is a masked personality
Love, pain, pleasure and lust are confined under skinned morality,
All we see is just the early morning of their everyday story
But sunset keeps something else about what we don’t worry.
Let them find the beauty with their eternal modesty
Do not open your judgement book all the time against the lady
Maybe you’re the reason behind some buried tragedy
Because we are the audience, unable to see the backstage story.
.
It is the life she lives; they live,
It is the hunger that makes them do this,
It is the money that forces them to become wild
It is all about dollars what can buy God’s beauty for a while,
All are for the happiness of somebody that every whore wants to visualize
She can be a daughter, a mother or maybe a solitary poor girl child,
They all go through the same pain every day and every night
There must be some reasons we can’t find; Because we are blind.
By: Anirban Bera
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