beauty rises from the ashes/we all start somewhere/with your lips pressed to mine/soft, delicate rose petal lips/a woman’s mouth/open and fragrant/long silky tongue jetting in and out/whispering sweet nothings as you find your way down/and i press against you – petals lifting up – careening out from the pressure/and my body finds its shape/amid your shape/curvaceous and long/a stem ripe with consequence/fingertips sad from the loss of your thorns/and then they appear/a bee sting survivor/i weep into an hourglass/filling the vase with wishes you will reappear/rising from the flames/your courtship with danger and entropy winning again/and my rose becomes a vibrant, vile bird/a mythical creature of the night/glowing against a round, fecund moon/the very essence of woman herself/and there you go again/morphing into something unrecognizable/but myloveforyou remains the same/ever the same/my beautiful woman/ever the same.
if for once, my constance can revel in temptation, smashing hips against circumstance/righteous and strong/i’ve always had these hips/and i will always love you. music is my drug when you are gone/and the silences between the notes stretch to offer company until you arrive again/with your bag swinging along your thin waist/begging me to touch the sour spots others passed over/on their way to the sweetness/like juice of the immortal/but all things sweet will one day grow hard/like sap on the vine stretching long to encumber the source/i will rise toward you like a sunflower begs for the nourishing rays/and you will give me what i need/there is no scarcity in remembering
whence you feel my thorns, too/tho’ they bow with fragility to your masterful glance/one of those?/my heart sings again.
beauty rises from the ashes. you, my love, make me dance along the crest of the roaring blue flames, orange licking my underbelly like a morning song.
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