Fit For A Queen

Do you feel it, my Queen
being written in the dream?

That landscape and mind
Offered most divine

Knowing this tongue
delights in butter rum

Every time I catch a whiff,
you succeed in spurning me stiff

The histories upon your skin
guide me forward, push me in

Taking chances, being bold
mapping pleasures once foretold

That bead of syrup at my tip
calmly taken by your lip,

Offered up for careful toying,
which I see the Queen's enjoying

Whispers falling to the neck,
when I lovingly inspect

Feeling curves and parting thighs,
on reserve for these blue eyes

This ivory length so well conditioned
into that pink, deeply positioned

A celebration that begs repeating
our appetites need constant feeding

These are deeds our words inspire
which only edge those passions higher

You can see where we’re both headed
in your grip, feel me embedded

Our perversions and our pleasures,
to the Queen, offered as treasures

Fitted, filled and kissed
to appease that birthday wish.