Sweet Little Virgins

There were sinister beings in the Midlands; horrible gruesome bloodsucking beasts that consumed women’s souls and feasted on the joy of their youth. I knew it; we all did. That is why mama had locked the doors before we went to sleep; sprinkled holy water on the windows and doors and prayed over her sweet little virgins before they went to bed.

Mama had saved her girls; secured us from the sultry seduction of these ravenous, these accursed, these demons from the very pits of hell.  But she had forgotten something, something very, very important. She had forgotten to close the only window that really mattered; the one that would ensure absolute security and protection from the devil himself.

Our hearts…

Mama left them thirsty, curious, hungry, and wanting and as they fluttered aimlessly, fanned by the winds of youthful lust, they crashed open, wide and with a bang and that is where they entered from.

We screamed, but no one heard us, we were alone, what would we do?

Mama had spoken of these beasts with such vehement repulsion; the kind that she reserved for the neighbor’s pig farm and the pungent odor of manure that wafted in from there. She spoke of the beasts’ serpentine forked tongues, their blackened horns, and dead eyes that turned women to stone. The very thought of these beasts frightened us of course; with their bat-like wings and raspy drawn breaths as they moved in for the kill.

Now here they were, ready to eat us up whole. What would we do? Mama, where are you? Mama help us!

“Men… They are horrible blood-sucking demonic beasts from hell! Have nothing to do with them my children,” you always said.

“Never ever let them look you in the eye. Don’t let them speak, for if you do, if they utter even a word as they look you in the eye, then you are doomed, completely under their spell, undone and all but dead…” Mama had insisted.

So we closed our eyes and shut our ears. We didn’t want to let them harm us; let them eat us up. Though we did mama, we peeped through our hands and stared straight into their eyes lit up under starry skies; those sparkling moonlit bright brown eyes.

Then they cursed us!

They cursed us with their big brown eyes and bound us. That was the only explanation, right? Of course, it was! Because why else would we have been so confused, been so close to death but never felt so…so…ALIVE?

Mama, even I tried to fight it but their eyes, his eyes, they burned me, they called to me. They were soft and beautiful and made my stomach churn. So I answered, stepped closer, and took his hand.

He had to be an angel mama, a son of the gods with wings silvery-white and magnificent, and when he spoke I swear that thunder rose from his tongue, shot bolts right through my robes. Then he kissed me, mama, oh did he kiss me and it was like heaven on earth.  It was like thunderstorms and the hot sun and everything else both wonderful and treacherous.

Why mama? Why were men nothing close to what you had described them as? He especially was everything but. I searched for the horns atop his curly head but my fingers drowned in locs drenched in coconut oil and passion. I felt for his serpentine tongue but his kisses were too glorious, too full of tender soft warmth and…and where were those dead eyes, mama?

I feared to look into them but when I did, I glared in awe. They were the most alive that I had ever seen eyes appear before. They devoured me whole but I had never been more breathing, more awakened. I have never felt more deprived and it was all because of YOU mama!

It turns out that you never did all of that to keep them out, but rather to keep us in. Keep us clean.

Well, too bad mama, the windows are shattered now, these sheets are soiled in decadence galore and drowned in myrrh and love so raw… and mama, so are your little virgins.

Yes, no longer are they, are we, no longer am I.

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I really hope you enjoyed the read. Thank you so much for passing by, I always enjoy having y’all around. The piece “Sweet Little Virgins” was definitely a fun piece for me to write. I talk a little bit about where I was at and what inspired this piece on my Patreon page so be sure to head on over there and we can talk a little more about it.

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Did you know that for a donation of as little as $3, you can unlock all my poetry curated into beautiful downloadable pictorial rendering for Instagram posts or just for your viewing pleasure as a memento of my appreciation for your support? Well, now you do.

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All in all, your readership and comments are my ambrosia. Thank you so much for your time.

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The post cover art is courtesy of Gerardo Rojas, Unsplash. Click on the link below to sample more of Gerardo’s work.

https://unsplash.com/s/photos/gerardo-rojas

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XoXo,

Eli

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