#epicureanism
In my small, soft belly
Excitement builds.
Exquisite little judders pull
As if you possess a magnet for pleasure
And have buried deep inside me
What you want to attract.
I place my hand a little lower
And sigh, wondering why
The mere thought of you sets me a-trembling
Like a first-time racehorse, eager for the course.
I am coltish, nerves thrumming,
Imaginary music humming
Through my heart, my head.
Take me to your bed.
Take me where you will,
To all the places within you,
Make my home
your body and soul.
Eat me, I am gourmet flesh
For this epicurean adventure
I am longing personified
Oh, you - ah - you - are
perfect
Let me taste your heart.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
How sad the trees be
when winter comes as fall leaves
and the flowers die
What consolation
is Venus’s forsaken
yielding spring to rise?
For once staring death,
summer fastens by a breath
and the flowers die
Yet made to know doom,
trees tither the chance to bloom
yielding spring to rise
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 4:07 PM UTC