Lace for Liquorice

Written by Emma Reynolds

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His mouth pressed into a thin line,
Straight through me his piercing black eyes stared,
He reassured me everything would be just fine,
Never before had I been so scared.

A grimacing look but accompanied by allure,
The whisky and smoke stained room was filled with tension,
I was dressed up all for him, the latest fashion in lace couture,
He promised black lies no innocent mouth could mention.

He was sticky just like liquorice,
His God like hands controlling the pure creature beneath him,
The silk sheets were splattered with filth as the night became feverish,
The love she wanted didn’t appear, the shining sun grew dim.

Crumbled like a handkerchief thrown from his pocket she lay down,
Falling to the floor her golden hair shivered in the breeze,
Still beautiful she belonged to him in that crushed velvet gown,
Dripping in red she poured out for him, his own personal tease.

Arranging the lapel of his tailored suit,
He leaves for a moment to fly off into the neon night,
All she can contemplate is her violation from a brute,
As she lay there slung on the chaise long and blinded herself to his cheated sight.