Passion Flower

Passion Flower

She doesn’t walk; she glides an inch above the earth.
She enters a room and her aura simply announces her presence.
She is poise and beauty, intelligent, elegant and utterly hypnotizing.
To most men she is terrifying.
Like a deer caught in the headlights they stand rooted in place
Made deaf, dumb and blind to all else.
While the men gape at her the women scowl at the men.
Me? I get a fire down below; obvious and proud, she has that effect on me.
Oh how I loved to see her steal the show with her unassuming appeal.
Knowing what I would put in her mouth later on only heightened my passion.
The men call her a goddess and declare their worship from a distance.
I call her a woman; a lady in public; my sweet little slut in bed.
In public she is reserved and un-accommodating
Not from snobbery as many would surmise but a girl school shyness she’s never quite overcame.
With me she is wanton and outrageous , sexually charged; yeah..I have that effect on her.
Inappropriate, opportunistic and irreverent.
We seize the moment primal and frenzied.
God I love her fire.

copyright Michael Garland 6/23/16