In the awakening of night, the lust of youth,
You wore your pastels, your captivating fragrance,
Hoping a bee would land on your petals,
To savor your nectar, as you embrace spring
...
The Flower, The Bee And Its Seasons
In the awakening of night, the lust of youth,
You wore your pastels, your captivating fragrance,
Hoping a bee would land on your petals,
To savor your nectar, as you embrace spring
At last this worker, tantalized by your beauty
He was captured, in the dawning heat he was parched
laid on a bed, with your legs wide open, infront of a thirsty man..
And the only thing that can quench his body was you.
Oh the beauty of your polens sticking to this mans body
sweet, sticky, unadultrerated decadence, as your nectars were extracted.
he digs in head first, as he landed on your petal.
In this heat of the night your feelings were mutual.
As the night went on, you felt comfort
he hummed you his journey of harvest
with his smooth tongue, a honeyed bouquet.
he holds you, realizing that you have fallen
The dawn at night, you've woken up
left behind was the imprint of his form on the seam
seasons change and your flower withered
to seek love, only to realize he was preparing for winter