She was love-
tasting like revenge,
not in a hurry, but
deliberately as she desired.

-a dark searing kiss
that drew blood,
from my lower lip;
getting the dormant
******* in me ready,
in a bit,

I counted it a forgotten pleasure,
playing just sadist, as circumstances permit,
it was, if you want to know
for sure a class act,
she knew how to do it.

in my writing, she said
sounding like an analyst,
i was preoccupied with dark birds,
' i see their presence,
on tree top hide outs,
ominous darkness sitting quiet
with folded wings'

blood in my lower lip
tasted salt,
the hibiscus flower on her raven hair
(reminding animal behavior
on certain periods of need)
to me is a symbol,
she and i know, of what.

I peered in to her ***** dark eyes,
thought what she said was
false.
)O(