tagErotic PoetryDawn Caller

Dawn Caller

bySapphos Sister©

In the morning half-light
for a moment he can't
recall the face of his
amorous assassin:

eyes, huge and insistent,
tongue, slippery as sin,
and lips, red and deadly
as a blooming poppy.

It's her words that get him:
murmured slyly, her soft
pleas elude the sentries
protecting his slumber.

With deft ministration
she brings lust back to life
but only long enough
to murder it again.

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