Enthralling Hair
His lust goes blunt and sharp at once. It shoves
Itself like cudgel and like blade. The club
Is made of iron that feels like rusty gloves
Created to assault for utmost drub
Of body parts. Deep bruising is its goal.
An urgency for trauma rises hard.
This may be only wishful but the hole
It wants to clobber starkly will be scarred
When conquering is done by battering ram.
The joint sharpness wants to wreak its will.
The sharpness wants its edge and point to slam
Inside the subjugated gate and spill
The victor’s triumph in the vanquished. Need
Is blunt and sharp. It plants its raping seed.