A Dream Come True

Paradise lips promising passion possibilities

puckered piercing phrases perfectly presented,

slowly slithering their salacious seductions

across the extremely sensitive layers of the mind,

soon the shield of guarded doubts

is stripped away by the lurid image

of a goddess and siren

who speaks with such sweet sentences,

softly suggesting the syrupy zest in solutions

as the heart surrenders to the bewitching voice’s song.

 

Eagerly does the listener drool for the taste

of that honey flavored fix,

happily parting with a credit card number

unto that phone vixen

in return for those sultry sounds

that can writhe the body with assurance’s ecstasy.

 

Then the moment of truth comes,

order arrives that she promised

was a miracle to make dreams come true,

sadly discovering she didn’t speak

with a tone of purest veracity,

not being a saint or angel,

but a demon in disguise

that sold a faulty invented happiness,

which was really made in hell.