Monday Moan Poem.... Conquest ...... Prose Poem ..

She was to be his latest conquest,

So pretty and small,

But like the rest.

She will confess,

He's the best,

And before the night falls

He'll have her climbing up the walls

Penetration

Hesitation

Her womb swallowed him almost whole,

As soon as the head of his staff rammed past her folds,

Instant heat, a shear grip, quickly envelop his swollen staff pole

Tides had turned, as he was the first, and the last, to moan...

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