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Disarmament of a Shield-maiden
A clenching of our hands,
A clinging of our bands.
The sweet aroma of your strawberry-coated strands,
Allow my capability to disarm your fragility.
Pent-up anticipation will meet expectation,
You adorn your shield-maiden attire,
Encouragement to set your onyx rose on fire.
Peeling, petal by petal, stitch by stitch,
Disarming that body metal.
Steel-clad discarded,
Billowing towards her pear-shaped derriere.
Lifting you off your feet,
Give me the sweet treasures I wish to taste—
The nectar of vanilla.
Lay back as I extract
Bridled years of frustration.
Call me your salvation,
Made anew,
Basking in the afterglow of you.
Copyright ©
Billie Jama
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