Friday, 10 May 2013

If a cunt is a flower


Bountiful flowers,
blossoming rose.
I put myself upon you
to take in your smell-
my nose becomes
the canal on which
your petals’ sweet scent
should float.
You kiss me, softly
so that I grow bold
by your kindling touch.
Take me, Rose; inside
of you-
your core becomes my kingdom,
your pollen becomes my jewel

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