Womb of Wound

Womb of Wound

Wound
The unexpected guest in my life,

who visits me some days,

as Casanova visits beauties.

He enters the threshold of my life,

sans premonition;

His kisses, so tender,

his hugs, so gentle,

he flirts with me and 

touches my bosom with his lusty lips.

Those touches tears me wide,

those kisses kills me sharp,

those hugs hurts me deep.

He makes love with me,

until he finds me unworthy

"How long will ye imagine mischief against a 'woman'?

ye shall be clan all of you:

as a bowing wall shall ye be,

and as a tottering fence.

He gifts no red roses,

but their sharp thorns,

which stabs me deep,

until I screams 'Abba'.

And when he leaves me,

I'll be carrying his womb!

whom I feed not with sweet milk,

but with my salty tears.

The world calls my baby 'nasty literature'

and I call her 'my life'!