K. Hartless

The Night Fly

The Night Fly

The night fly’s veins are dry.
She watches withering skin
through compound bloodshot eyes.

Steady sips with softest lips
the lightest touch for exposed skin
her liquid diet keeps her thin, plus
bulimia beats heading to the gym.

The night fly feasts with petite feet
if not their fetish, she’ll gag’em
leave a tattoo carved in phlegm.

Her lapdance licks all sorts of pricks,
lustful skin’s her favorite bed,
the burning loins that keep her fed.

The night fly spreads when e’er she beds
her excellent grip and hinging jaw
infect the exposed with leprosy and yaw.

At peak she jerks, her need berserk.
Fast to react, she avoids the smacks,
sees them blush behind her back.

The night fly loots the putrid fruit,
leaves her babies in a dumpster
every time her boyfriend pumps her.

If the night fly rests, it’s upside down.
Thirty days to party and piss
before falling into the endless abyss.

© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved

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