Flower Mouth

So strong a stem, such well-formed flesh your leafy limbs (though aged) still fresh among the garden damsels posed as if you're worthy of the rose! Your airy blossoms speak with ease but reek of lustful potpourri; a dogged, macho dander poured, the filthy scent that beguiles whores! Sometimes your tasseled fingertips might stimulate a young rosehip a helpless bud in field of weeds to pollinate among the reeds! But wisdom tends to bare the thorns of self-respect and pride reborn! Perhaps a pair of numerous lips might fell a lass with Shakespeare's scripts but commonality gets old just like the woody of a lad too bold! But here, you're sordid lies won't sell your hapless whispers known too well. I've choked on bitter-weed champagne no aphrodisiac remains. A ragweed blister on the tongue from dalliance when I was young. Your flower mouth can't steal my breath because your words have got no depth you ragged my spirit, gagged my soul but I am unaffected anymore!