I Slept with the Devil

This is my story
of sleeping with the devil.
This is my tale
told as it should.
A journey to hell, via the
hallways of heaven.
The days, they were short
but the sex, it was good.

The devil has eyes which
smoulder like hell’s hot coals
Eyes which say “go”
and eyes which say “come”
The devil has eyes
that can move you to prayer
make you speak in tongues
or strike you down dumb.

The devil’s own voice
sings like a cello
and speaks in a language
which you alone know.
It’s words are commands
or seductive incitments
to goto the places
wise girls do not go.

The kiss of the devil
doesn’t burn as I dreamed
but stings like the touch
of half frozen rain.
One kiss can bring pleasure
another devotion
another can sow a seed of desire
that blooms to a thorn bush of pain

And I slept with the devil
and I took him inside me
from the night to the morning
I cried out his name.
And though that devil is gone
there are many more devils
and if a new devil called me down
I would go down again.

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