Beneath the sheets.

Descend, and soon I shall dissent.
I’ll let myself forget and slip.
This belly into which I go
hums with hunger,
one I know…

So intimate,
that it’s partially mine;
it’s one-half lacking,
two-parts
shine.

Whiskey, whiskey,
a stranger’s scent,
a drunken stupor,
Heaven’s went.

But Hell does sell
it’s finest meat,
oh-so sultry,
beneath the sheets.
This surely is the sweetest test,
but it’s in his bed,
the beast fights his best…