My Thai. Episodic. 1 S'Ong

(Hope you enjoy Tess, excuse my smiling audacity.)

Not the first,
Nor last silken banner flown,
No will to judge
Skill in those I had known.
She came in her reality clad,
Offering truth of kodachrome.

Eclectic imagery swarming.
Nurtured all while I had desired her kind,
Plagiarized pictures paved her way
Badly drawn scrawls in my monochrome mind
Set against her beauty’s sway,
Those erotically spent daubings, now cast behind.

So small, so graceful,
Power pure formed as petite,
All firm, soft solid mass favoured free,
She, so strong, in erotic service sweet,
Ohh, memory, so real, rich, still so easily stirred,
Of how she shamed fantasy with its own defeat.

She possessed no belief in any taboo,
No sense of shame, shadowed her sensual ease,
So willing, such searing erotic truth,
Her hungers matched by her will to please,
She offered all this and more,
As she entwined in fact, to fulfil all my youthful raging needs.

She was a banquet course after course,
A feast to surpass any ambitious appetite,
Her flavours exotic, rich full and rare,
Eager to serve, be it day or night.
She took this prudish modest man-formed bear,
And set him free , freed my inner secret sight.

Cinamon sheen, spiced to the taste,
Heady scented mounding breasts,
Deep incurved hand spanned waist,
God she fuelled such welcome anarchic unrest.
Her hair, raven sleek and ever long
By S’ong’ ,
My Thai,
I was reborn ,
confirmed anew,
and forever blessed.