Man
This man
Knowing her beauty
Is founded in love words
He sculpts his words carefully
Crafting them in formal evening attire
Posing under the moonlit night he strikes
Passion being the tongue fruit of young lovers
Soothing her warm nights before the waking dawn
He begins kissing her mouth as he slips his banana tongue into her martini glass mouth
She now must surrender to his bulging prison arms
Sizzling words from loves flame begin to burn
Desire melts her honor in her last attempt
Slipping away into her final decadence
Her dignity she must maintain
Will you still respect me?
She respectfully asks
Of course
Yes.
