June 24, 2014 4:58 pm
"Such radiance hath fashioned itself upon thine face,"
dreamt when waking to a sunrise nice, but paled. And paced.
You, the true silksoft bud grew and bloomed,
As my fingers and words pored, pulled, prodded truths assumed.
"Explore, young petals, explore wider--wider yet, good girl!"
With legs and grins spread darkly wide, exploring toes and tongues curled.
Makeup smeared, bruises endured, we chortled solemn and profound,
Young and tight and smart and naive and happy and naive and lost and found.
"Until when?!," I panic. Until your petalcaresses are out and down?
Until your mmm aroma wears into the sickly sweet scent of sex sweat now?
Until helloes are sighed, goodbyes are nodded, yeses and no's ignored?
Until our Brooklyn routine collects our settled dust, quickly tamed then and bored?
"To Virgins, to Make Much of Time," we'd read;
I did not want you to discover, horribly, (with caution, with care, with yield, with heed) the end.
