She took the rose
Gently pulling it across her face
Holding with extra care
Two, soft, wrinkled leaves
The smooth petals and aroma
Like a philter
Were the perfect aphrodisiac
As the flower began to bloom
Morning dew escaped
Dripping on her lips
As if to quench a parched tongue
MORNING DEW
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Monday, July 20, 2009
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1 comment:
sexy, very o'keefe. :)
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