I kissed a purple flower tattooed on her thigh.
High as a kite, we made love all night.
She bit down upon Jesus nailed to the cross;
while covered in silver, He rests on my chest.
Scratches of passion flowed down my back.
Teeth-marks engrave her shoulder.
My sweat.
Her aroma.
Eyes closed
Perky nipples
Teeth-marks fade away.
Scratches heal.
Jesus forgives
When the wind dies down, like a kite, we come down.
That kiss will remain, for a tattooed purple flower won't ever wilt and die.