There you stand
arching yourself to the light
a delight for weary eyes, radiant
shining, distinct, yet warm, cascading like a kiss
The illumination is predatory
made by man’s intent
Am I past my mark
or has my mark passed me?
The clock strikes 12
now your neck is what I desire
with such spirited thrust, I begin to perspire
soft, creamy, looking absolutely ravishing
avert your eyes, there is about to be a ravaging
Enchanted, delirious, offset by impulse
desire has been liberated
unstifled and unrepentant, here I stand
witness, to a sunflower thriving in the night.
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