Voluptuous curves
how I long for thee.
Do I not deserve
pleasure two or three?
The serpent is driving me
to you, the forbidden fruit,
please don’t be conniving
ere we say bonne nuit.
I have set a table
lit a match, and waited.
Love for you is no fable
o how the mind is gated.
The glint of fire
on the knife,
you to admire
to kill the strife.
I wish to feel the goosebumps
on your tender skin
no time for hiccups
I want the win.
Be the feeling mutual
don’t hesitate to begin
send me the sensual…
“Do you like my name?”
she asks
much to my chagrin.
The Bird's Song 