Blood Wet Flesh

Oh when the Tulip twirls,
It spins a thousand frenzied come-ons and,
Twinkles flashes of hot light from bewitching new worlds.

The well of desire in my eyes is smouldering clack dry,
And a slalcious new steam unfurls,
A thirst, a cry.

My hands curl and twist,
Like the fingers of the Devadisas,
Confessing their hot fevered heavenly trysts.
I'm set ablaze like an exploding giant star,
Bursting heat in it's death,
Stretching impossibly far.

My heart is a panther,
Thundering for blood wet flesh,
To taste the dew from the Tulip,
To lick a sticky trickle from it's crest.

And all the pretty petals from that flower unfurl,
And I can taste heaven inside this beautiful girl.

The creamy sweet rush of that deep first thrust,
Envelopes my cock and transcends animal lust.
I'm fucking her now, with my heart and my eyes,
Pounding giddy squeals from her throat,
And sticky sweat from her thighs.

For she is the one, the only one in this world,
That will feel this come, that will be my girl.
For Oh Dear God, when the Tulip starts to twirl,
More beauty is created then by the first perfect pearl.