deepundergroundpoetry.com

The First Trace of Spring

He saw the first tulip had revealed  
it's glorious yellow.
 
The bulb,
teasing  
to burst,
these past few days,
had finally opened
sometime
early morning
before he wandered out  
to enjoy his first taste of the day.
 
Aligned with the wave of the spring,
his contained bulge,
discretely hidden by his robe,
also felt as if it could burst
given the right attention.
 
He knew it was a sign,
when that same yellow
caught his eye mid-morning
at the dealership.
 
What appeared to be
a leg cross for comfort,
would prove to be  
further incentive to  
work the sales pitch.
 
But the car seemed to sell itself,
as she already appeared to embrace
the mood of the season,
choosing a light dress
to air out the winter skin.
 
A test drive of serious innuendo
peppered with brief snippets
of a looming divorce
prompted his sunshine state of mind
to suggest they share a drink
after the deal was inked.
 
And just like that bulb,
patient to reveal the mystery,
prying down those yellow panties
would allow him to burst
inside a flower of his own.
 
Tenderloin
Written by Tenderloin
Published | Edited 5th May 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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