The Brothel

I walked the narrow road to my father’s home
to collect my inheritance when a woman
in scant fiery leather and spiked heels snared
my eyes. She flaunted hills higher than the heavens and a valley
flooding with honey, a mane like a silk golden crown and a scent
like ecstasy. Her words coiled me and drew me closer. “Do you want
to play?” I feigned resistance. “I need to see my father,” I squelched.
“But it’s only noon,” she reasoned. “He can wait.” Two fingers shut
my eyelids as her blood crimson lips strutted forward.
“Let’s have fun.” Her tongue penetrated my mouth and drowned me
with a cherry candy taste and an alcohol burn, and I fell
to her feet. She took hold of my staff and led me down
another path.

I traveled the wide road of the kingdom with her. I passed
meadows with melons as plump as Jupiter and shiny
as stars. Women basked beside streams in golden lace
accentuating their milky curves. They licked their lips and pawed
at me as I followed my mistress. Hours passed
and I did not look back.

The bushes faded into weeds and hyenas started to follow me. I
whimpered and shrunk into a fetus, but my mistress turned and stared into me
with her dark earthly eyes: “We’re almost home,” she cooed as her lips
covered mine. Her kiss tamed my fear and rejuvenated my hunger.
I followed behind my mistress through the forks and the detours
and I did not look back.

She brought me into a moldy cubicle as the sun set. I lay atop
a bed of spikes as she lay atop me. “I could love you,” she murmured. Her teeth
pinched my tongue as her flickered against it. Her nails
clawed into my arms as her spiked heels punctured my feet. Her honey
sedated my muscles as my vision blurred. I only heard
the cackling hyenas approach. They lapped the blood
right off me with cheese-grater-like tongues as she tore off the fabric
of my flesh.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: