TROPHIES

Mark Davis Author / Poet

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That’s how she saw them
In her head
Trophies on the wall
Not a notch on her bed
She smiled remembering
The start of the chase
They thought they were hunting
The look on their face
When they realised instead
That they were the prey
When cuffed to the bed
And she took them her way
The expression she captured
As she started to feed
Keeping them there
Till drained of their seed

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