The Flower, My Lover

 

Away she modelly walks

Unto the dead of night,

Her steps louder to lower

Till she bounces out of sight.

. . . And then I look to you,

A closed bud of jewels no flower

Should ever possess.

The plethora shades of green permeate

On till I envision your visage.

That forbidden pleasure should not

Lie in the grip of such a Teley

As me.

Will you not but decompress that shell and let

Me view the you who rings true?

My cheek on your belly -

Sin by the lapping of your bellybutton

And the massaging of your chest.

I know I could die as I

Lay my head on your thigh,

Staring up into your hunkered pistils and stamens,

While your pink lips commune your orgasm

On mine.

My flower,

Know always that our secrets shall

Remain safe with each other.

 

Next - "Thank you for those morbid roses . . ."