Originally published on The Metaworker (February 3, 2020)

The Devil’s wicked lips
taste my burning flesh
A delicacy
A flame with delight
(with shame)

He teases, waiting,
watching as I squirm and writhe,
(wanting to escape)
wanting more.

Embers of pleasure
dancing amongst my limbs,
burning bright the primrose path
with fury
(with pain)

He knows I’ll remain
for the agony
because I’d miss it
in heaven.
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