Her one night stand called her a whore as she left in acrimony,

Her emotions see-sawed between indignity and anger,

That word however clung and sunk into her skin on the commute home,

Admitedly, she approached him like prey

‘Cause she wanted a lay,

And she fancied a bit of rough,

But did not want to leave her number with him to pretend it was anything more,

She was frank, forthright, upfront and graphic about her needs,

He fucked her like a whore and treated her like one too,

As she lay struggling to catch her breath post-coitus,

He called her a ‘passable fuck’ and flung a scrunched up £10 note at her to give to her ‘fella’ as a tip,

It dawned on her that while she was playing her part-

Like eating an exotic meal with chopsticks or bare hands just for the sheer thrill of it-

He was not;

Offended, she swung out,

He moved out of the path of the swing, whispered the word through a smirk, as he pushed her back onto the bed,

Before exiting the room laughing like a manic hyena;

Now, she’s showered half a dozen times,

Scrubbed herself near raw,

Yet…she can’t seem to shake the unclean feeling that’s settled in;

She called a trusted friend seeking comfort,

The friend, listened intently, and replied,

‘When you sleep with dogs hun,’

‘Don’t be surprised if you wake up with flees!’

Black Russian Sips


It’s only the ones you know about,

I ran a train through our bedroom, while you were out working to pay the bills,

Is it still sadistic, if I only get a kick out of hurting you?

You don’t want to think about how it got this way,

You played your part in it,

And, yes, I did mine, too;

You must have known I wasn’t the faithful type,

You enjoyed the thrills that came with that tag,

Can’t be too surprised to find some drawbacks too;

The truth is:

You’d forgive me again, if you just let yourself,

So, just take a sip of this Black Russian,

And, start forgetting anew;

You’ve played the oblivious, dipsy wife this far,

You can keep playing it;

Baby, if you want me,

I’m afraid you’re gonna have to.