Poems

Finger ♥s Blade

In no time, the new blade slit the finger to its/my heart’s content.
I grinned until my cheeks split and fell to my shoulders.
It was the night the finger proposed to the blade, after receiving a beautiful and deep cut.
And it was a night of love that each had waited for all its life.
The mood of the wedding night was a blend of super sweet and so darn painful. 
An endless stream of guests, dear letters, travelled to attend,
All giving their congratulations, finally relieved to see my finger settle down.
...Once ushered off to their nuptial room,
The groom wasted no time and promptly held, cuddled, kissed, ravaged, grabbed and caressed her.
Until the beautiful bride languished and shed her red wedding gown, dripping with sheen, onto the floor [or dripping purity onto the floor.]

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