Layla All Over Again

Garter Harness


It was wrong
and I knew it was wrong
but I didn’t stop
and I didn’t dare stop
because I would have missed her,
I would have missed his her.

He had Candice.
Clapton had Layla;
he had another man’s bride
and I had this,
this bristle,
this black,
this bloom.

What I longed for,
I longed for his lay.
Although lay is what she
couldn’t do,
wouldn’t do,
would never do.

She must have laid him,
slayed him,
flayed him,
his little him,
his not so long him,
his hidden him.

She must have had her way with all over him, and them
and then she must have walked,
not talked,
but taken
because she need not talk to take.

She took with nothing more than her walk, and her long, leather bound legs,
were what it took to take me,
make me
and drain me.


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