Queen Bee
In New Orleans

Heavy wine
Light headed sleep
Upon the velvet cushions
Of poisonous slithering serpents

With their long red tongues
Flicking
In the dim candlelight
Flickering

How I hope Mr. Sun
Never comes back
With his golden whips, switching off
All sensuous feasts under silver moon

In this dark back room
With it's silken drapes
I lie in a daze
Purple rain in my wine glass
A haze

I laugh to myself
Take pity in those
Who brought me pain
Drop my hand between my silken thighs
For them

Poor lingering souls
I drink to you in my orgasmic isolation
Bearing the fruit you crave
Upon my breast

Growling lions from across the hall
Knock on the door softly
The snakes hiss and coil
Wrap themselves around my legs

You wake up
From your deep sleep on the carpet
Levitated by the cat
You hold your cut throat

I throw my head back grinning
The door is thrown open
The growling beasts with their multiple heads
Drip the black ink on your pale skin

You scream
I ponder on the multiple outpours
That my mind produces. How vain.
I'm stuck, and the lions feel dizzy

You grab my ankle
My robe is misplaced
"Bitch..." you whisper
Crawling up my leg

I grab the rope on your neck
Kiss your bloody lips
Your agony makes me moan
You rip the silk on my body
Raking my skin with your nails

The red marks
Writing down the 10 commandments
Newly revised
That is

You linger close
To that dripping mango you've been dying to eat
Wondering if I'll snap you in two
If you touch it

"Just try it,” I whisper
You stop bleeding
The lights go out
Mr. Sun is dead

Welcome to my hive.

If you would like to see a picture I made for this poem then go here.