A clover-less day

I posted this to the lustbites blog as part of their contest and thought I'd post it here too. It was party in response to the news, back around Valentine's Day, that Saudi vice police were banning red roses (and apparently anything red!) causing the black market prices on roses to skyrocket.

The first line has a double meaning both verb and adjective. Read it however you feel best suits. I also changed the word 'leaves' from petals. Mistype!



We were forbidden roses,

so I made petals of your lips, licking their softness, teasing your tongue into my mouth—

a bud, a trembling flower your body became,

and I tasted you, memorising you, tasting you as bees might, suckling from you a sweeter honey, my fingers brushing against precious petals, bruising you in a blush of roses, leaving my mark for others to know,

how forbidden you are—

and one last time I trick the flower your body has become, easing inside you, feeling you curl around me, furling leaves like a vine.

We are forbidden roses,

forbidden lovers.

:     :     :   :   :   ::   :::

old poetry

The smoky burn of incense
leaves me thinking of
your scented hair
in heaven.
Your gilt face
much colder than my memories,
I kissed your lips
when no one looked.


2004 or something like.

:     :     :   :   :   ::   :::