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
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