A knight bows to his wife. His lance of desire (mature)

At her feet, he kneels upon a pillow
***
His desire
Stands above
A dress of white fire
She is his blooming love
Sparkling fountain from a pyre
***
Her eyes down upon her fate
She knows
This knight belongs to her
His lance, so firm in weight
A satisfying sword to sate
***
Under her dress he flows
Hunger becomes his state
Rose petals they do glow
Shimmering silk in wait
He bends to kiss her toes
***
A land of luxury doth call;
Pleasure they must create
On a lake of velvet sheets, they fall.
A woman and her mate.

desire

–Desire–

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5 responses to “A knight bows to his wife. His lance of desire (mature)

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