The orchid is spread open;
a sight too beautiful to ignore.
The viewer is drawn down for a closer look.
The fragrance pulls them in and they wonder,
does the scent taste as wonderful as the air they breathe in?
With a timid caress they take a small sample;
The nectar pulls at them, tantalizing their palette
A second swipe is delivered,
more firm, more knowing, more hungry.
In time each lick becomes one that is driven by desperation.
The orchid begins to quiver and shake.
It becomes one with its admirer;
rising and falling with each breath that is stolen from the heat
of its stem.
Soon the lover of the flower can no longer contain themselves and
all is lost for the orchid.
Teeth begin to feast on the sultry petals,
absorb the shock of the collapsing leaves,
and just when all hope is lost, the orchid finds relief.
The devourer is there, comforting and coaxing out the honey that has spilled from its depths.
It is there to lick away the pain and calm the gentle jewel.
The stem shivers one last time and the roots ease up on their grip.
The orchid sighs in pleasure and waits to be admired again.