The Garden

I am like your garden,

nurtured by the sinful things you make me do.

My flower grows from lust and blooms

from sex.

My body wraps around you like a vine,

thick and unmoving but can snap under the right touch.


My moans can’t be controlled

due to your skilled tongue.

Destroying my body and pride with each agonizingly

slow lick to my sanctuary.

Causing me to unfold before you like a rose in bloom begging

to be touched by the gardener's hands.


But sadly,

Although you’re the reason I flourish,

you’re also the reason I wilt.

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