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Scent Of The Widow - with Maeve_Edmonson
With the scent of the widow
from the perfume armoire,
cloaked in black drapes,
scarred, her arms are.
And the dawn's early coffee,
listening to it brewing,
the scent of fresh beans
from the grinder, stewing.
With a shadow of her face
as a smile gave memories.
To her eyes sweet toffee,
beautiful to ever see,
rinsed with a savoring kiss,
her perched upon my lips.
Making me her herald,
her sweet wine, I sip.
Touching her pulsing aneurysm,
bursting to a crimson red,
from the perfume armoire,
diffusing through my head,
with the scent of the widow.
from the perfume armoire,
cloaked in black drapes,
scarred, her arms are.
And the dawn's early coffee,
listening to it brewing,
the scent of fresh beans
from the grinder, stewing.
With a shadow of her face
as a smile gave memories.
To her eyes sweet toffee,
beautiful to ever see,
rinsed with a savoring kiss,
her perched upon my lips.
Making me her herald,
her sweet wine, I sip.
Touching her pulsing aneurysm,
bursting to a crimson red,
from the perfume armoire,
diffusing through my head,
with the scent of the widow.
Published 10th Nov 2023
Author's Note
Once again, I owe a bushel full of thank's to Maeve_Edmonson.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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10th Nov 2023 10:31pm
Oh, you two did it again! Very cool write. I loved every line of it. Bravo!
10th Nov 2023 10:33pm
