Her eyes were as sharp as her words,
As she rolled in with the morning tide.
She asked me if I thought she was beautiful?
I hedged. I hawed. I lied.
The curve of her hip made me delirious.
The sun and the moon met and sighed.
She asked me if I was imperious?
I laughed. I choked. I denied .
My loins ached with angst for her thighs.
While the stars and planets opened wide.
She asked me if I was serious?
I thought. I fought. I sighed.
My lips tingled with her foment.
While comets imploded my inside.
She asked me to marry the moment.
I conceded. I defeated. I tried.
Like my orgasm she was gone in a moment.
While stars burned out like snide.
She spewed out like bad vomit.
I hesitated. I gasped. I died.
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My Place
Copyright 2004 © Ronald W. Hull
10/10/04