The dark dance calls softly,
like Night Shade or Oleander.
Just a little taste...
Just one more slow waltz...
I can smell her
wet orchid while I sleep.
She moves languidly through
my dreams possess me at dawn
with lambent steps.
The love is violent, like a bullfight.
It's sweet and treacherous, ferocious.
It's fatal for one of us.
And she's been gored.
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Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 30th, 2024 14:03
- Comment from author about the poem: Here is a link to my recently published limited-edition book. Rise Up Collected Poems and Short Stories https://booksie.chainletter.io/i/thomaswcase888
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
- User favorite of this poem: Teddy.15.
Offline)
Comments6
Oh a wrestle with a praying mantis? 🤣
the erotic scene...
my cheeks are blushing. Wonderful imagery with a giant load of emotion. How fun you are. Bednobs and broomsticks comes to mind. 🌹
Lol. Thank you Sweet Teddy
Such a shame she was gored but with luck it may happen again Thomas. LOL
Andy
Lol. Thanks, my friend.
Good write T.
Now my - or your - next poem: 'Him'. lol.
Wow, nothing left to the imagination here. Such an erotic scene played out here Thomas. What a dream. Those last four lines tell the story.
Thank you so much. I appreciate you.
I would like to say this is hot . but the perma frost forming on my nib says better not .. so I'm just gonna write COOL in big letters .. OK .. N
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