Love Lilith (Ribs not Clay)

Great loves and first loves are not always the same
But girls can leave indelible marks on your back
With apple red fingernails made from the same clay as your earliest wet dreams

Biting and screaming and wanting to lose you are not the same thing
But you moved out and the blonde appeared
With birthing hips and a barren little head

History is written by the victor’s broken ribs 
Your long black hair becomes a succubus better than a mother
There are fewer questions and less hurt feelings

Does he ever call you drunk at 3 a.m.?
Ask about the Asmodeus’ giant legendary cock?
Say things that make the devil roll over and grunt in his sleep?

Does it ever piss you off that you never ate The Apple?
You wanted to fuck, but pissing off God was her idea.
Do you ever feel kind of sorry for leaving him?

Or do you close your eyes and go back to sleep?

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