The Succulent Flower

Do you wish to taste the succulent flower as she grows, anxious, in the garden? Morning’s blush arouses her soft pink petals and they become warm and moist with dew A sweet musky scent fills the air It calls to you and you cannot resist Her sultry aroma holds the promise of unabashed ecstasy She blooms open and eager beneath you She is ready to be exposed You brush against her petals and she quivers with anticipation You caress her teasingly, lovingly, for she is inviting Velvet smooth perfection She is yours to possess You reach for her and take her quickly You hold her close against you And for a brief moment she is all you know She is a prize, your prize, to be put in her place You display her so others will know your worth Sadly, she sits alone in her vase, withered and undesired