Lusting breathlessly a darker shade
with inuendos deafening the silence,
in my quarters penning erotic quartos,
of my sins in fours.
Hosting my ghost, lost in the shadows
behinds the walls closing in silently,
up to my musing in the inkwell archives,
of magenta lips with seductive fingers.
With whispering venting from the dark
from my weary mind’s bag of tomes,
in recesses of quivering thighs,
and flickering chastity of the flame.
Hidden in recesses of newly found love
lusting breathlessly a darker shade,
She quivers with anticipation of
My spoonful of my aphrodisiac,
of my sins in fours.
