Oh, I know the ways to make his knees
quiver. The Taj Mahal is nothing;
compared to the bed that I have made for him.
And he will never forget the honey jars
kept on our nightstand; the nights it trickled
down to the depths of my core.
Pleasure diamonds have a way
of sending you to Paphos; sinking in
to the vibrational waves of Venus.
No need to light candles, as we already burn
loud enough for all the neighbours to hear,
smile at, blush, and desperately long for.
He is the rain, and I am the desert. I thirst
for his sweet relief beneath the light
of the hunter's moon.
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Author's Comments
Full Title: For The Boy Who Knew Me Only In Rushes.
Infinite possibilities-A writer's guild
This is a writer's guild where all can gather for feedback and advice on all mediums of writing. Plus it's a great place for conversation.
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