the wedding night

he takes her by the hand
up the sparkling stairs
a bride without a marriage band
a groom with receding hair

they pause to air their lungs
this walk filled with promise
he grins at her face, innocent, young
and rewards her with a kiss

the door, there it stands
open, inviting, ready
she looks up at her man
heart racing, feet unsteady

the bedsheets hungry, red
the pillow soft, so warm
and like a hyena unfed
he grabs her by the arm

he holds her tiny waist
firm, rough, really strong
hands strip in needy haste
while lips break into song

he plunges deep within
this crevice yet unexplored
her world starts to swim
and her thighs drip wet, gored

he looks into her eyes
tired, spent, had.
she gazes back and replies
“can I go now…dad?”

ram cobain