Yes, wide-eyed innocence was her intent:
like Salome, she had her own agenda;
young, sure: her smile, even her teeth were tender,
and waving hips her winning argument.
In loving her was danger seldom seen:
Her kisses so inflamed my ardent sex
That muscular control and pure reflex
Might crush her like an egg in ways obscene.
Yet now her gentle fingers soothe my brow
And even gentler still, she’ll bathe my head
With ungents sweet and cooling, balms of ice
and sharpened blades like feathers smooth entice
and tempt me with such sweetness into bed
that I shall sleep for shearing even now.
Related posts:
- subjective The journey into the heart of the light Begins with...
- Distancing Lingering too late over the words — incantations scratched onto...
- Pensées de la nuit At such a time, lying in the dark, My gorge...
- Strawberries I take comfort from the dream: you dip your finger...
- sensory memory Memories of long ago to give a pretty good impersonation...
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
