(2012)
It does not smell
As sweet as sweet
Should smell
Shaped like a rose,
Though not as pink,
Petals unfold
At the touch of my finger
Moist,
As in drenched
In morning dew,
A flower that vibrates
When my finger moves
Down into its core.
I am a honey bee
Seeking pollen
I need to sip,
I am a cat
That laps
It up from your lap
As you purr.
It does not smell
As sweet as a rose does,
Yet I’m drawn to it,
I cannot resist tasting
Its taste,
Letting the dew
Drip onto the tip
Of my tongue,
Filling me up,
As I ease my stinger,
Deeper inside.
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