The tribe stood and looked at her

Virginal and pure

Skin soft and pliant and a scent of lilac and summer rain

Emanating from hot spots on her skin

Eyes reflecting light and moon and stars

Pools of quicksilver flashing and beckoning

Nose of perfection

Taking in the scents around her and classifying them

Lips of silk and sugar and a mouth spawning rivers and streams filled with plasma

Breasts bountiful, the standing nipples promising life for all hunger

They spew forth meat and corn and fish and soy and wheat and wine and quenching

Her stomach the mine of all of their envy, filled with diamonds and pearls and gold

Her center is the beginning Creation

Gentle folds that unfurl and furl, birth and life and beginning shining in the wet creases

Infant creatures appear and arrive and breathe and live

Her legs are mountains that touch the sun

The tribe trembles and shakes and fucks her

Each thrust sending nirvana in waves that they rise and fall upon

A feast of their senses and they take the love that is given freely

Again and again the bodies rise and fall

Gorging on the passion and green and endlessness of her heady embrace

Never enough to have enough they go and go and go and go and go

No pause for her breath to catch and return

Eyes spinning up in warning

Her love is free but finite in its physicality

She begs them to stop and wait and tread with gentle steps but now its rape

Her screams held back by hands heavy with money and guns

Television screens beam back the carnage to the lines of waiting sex that yearns to feed on her

She tries and tries to warn them

Ending the existence of

One life after another,

One plant after another

One precious stone after another and the rape continues

She tries to tell them that she is not fragile but not immortal

She shakes and coughs and cries

Her mouth is filled with their need though and they hear not a thing but the moans of their own

Ecstasy echoing in their ears as they feed and feed

Deeper they plunge into her, the tribe a whistling, spinning drill

Tearing the very core of her to pieces

Flung to the sides and tops and bottom she begins to bleed to death

Black oil from creatures past erupt in arterial gout and stain the sea

We drive and turn the music up in countless automobiles and watch the brain box and hope the President will fix this but

We are in this thing together and the sex is too good to stop.