Roses are red, violets are blue A dinner you promised, just me and you. Reproving winds lectured me in bites For my barely-there skirt, and lustful eyes.
Sour cream lathered that oily exterior. The aftertaste lingered, creating a barrier Of which soft lips could not break through Nor embellished flowers or chocolate fondue.
With our stomachs full, with more than just food You brought me back home with beer-stained shoes. My mind a fog. The Lamb now waits to be skinned For the Wolf that set the ****** trap to finally begin.
Virginal blush, tinged with her bruises all blue A dinner you had promised, just me and you.