The Ivy, fanged, mistress grazed her emerald fingers in desire
As I offered her an aged delicate flower
Kept alive
By naive lies
Once livened by
Chaste eyes
That I may abide by

…Lest I let her devour
Such a sacred flower

She stares at my offering,
A smile adorns her face
Amused,
“Did they scare you with promise of disease, and bearing?”
I nodded: admitting my fear
Her sardonic laughter danced in my ears
As her sapphire eyes caste a fire
In my spine.

Her lips kissed the dry pedals
Instantly swelling them pink
Making them moist with hunger
Tight
With a pulsating, passionate pain

She silenced my breathe with her finger
As she tasted the damp daisy
I offered so eagerly
Then left me
Panting

So endeared
Was I, by her mouth
As she lingered on mine

Her promise without words
(That no man could find)