The Sweet Lioness [Poem] by Noel Negele


And it has come to this.
I get off from her back
And ass
And I lie next to her,
Enjoyably tired,
More alive than most of the time
But not so into it anymore.

It’s the passion that died,
Progressed to a state of less and less
Until nothing remained from the feeling
That once upon a time
Pushed me against the shape of her lips
The taste of the tongue
The feel of her vulnerable love.

And she gets angry of course
And her cunt is still wet
Like a dripping cave
And her eyes wide open
Like those of a cautious cat,
And her body slowly moves as she talks
It vibrates
And she doesn’t seem to notice
And her jaw is slightly clinched
From the pleasure
That suddenly broke free
From her insides.

Why did you stop, she’ll say,

And she’ll look at my dick
Finally shrunk and defeated
Trying to hide behind the balls,
Not so majestic anymore
Actually like a pathetic instrument
Of sorts
And her hand will fall upon it
Like a spider searching for pray
Trying to revive something
That needs something more than just
A hand to wake up.

I’ll say I just drank too much
And she’ll say I always drink too much
And then I’ll just drop the bomb indifferently
As if it’s an unfortunate event
That happened some time ago
In another country.

I’m sorry but I have to go
I’ll say,
I don’t think this will work out between us.

Unrequited love
Is a lousy matter
And I’ve been on both ends
Numerous times
And what I’ve learned is
The more you are hurt
The more cautious you become
In the future.

So I don’t try to be pleasant with her
Or kind.

And she’ll say that she loves me
And that that’s the first time
She’s ever said that
As if it will mean anything
To anyone other than her.

And she’ll get up
And head to the bathroom
And I’ll listen to her weep
Over the running sink.

I’ll look at the plant she has
On the nightstand
That’s rotted;
I’ll stick my finger into the mud
In search of remaining roots

But nothing is left there

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