The Rose, The Thorn and The Crimson Trail

a brush of silk against my cheek
sweet fragrance of love
dreamy peace
awakened desires
the coppery taste of my snagged lip
butterfly wings caress my neck
the scent of love softly fades
the pain of the thorn
leads the rose across my chest
a sudden stirring in my loins
the thirsty rose continues its path downward
pausing briefly to drink of my torn nipple
the thorn now follows a crimson trail
leading to a crimson pool
a searing rip
erotic hell
releases the gathering blood from my navel
wet and heavy the rose follows the thorn
leaving an ever-widening crimson path
tiny ruby droplets
cascade down my thighs
the thorn tears through my pelvic forest
saturated petals kiss my throbbing wood
the thorn hits a snag
my scrotum stretches but does not give
the ecstasy of the thorn
the moist kiss of the rose
are more than I can bear
i explode
in pulsating waves of release
as the thorn relinquishes its grip
and the rose
drinks once more