you often told me how you adored pretty flowers.
bouquets that were pure, untainted yet subtly snake-hipped with their
dainty petals draped down — oh, so sensually
along their stick slim figures.
i laugh, haha. darling, no need to lie to me.
oh, i know how you love that sweet but suggestive innocence.
you crave just for a taste along the tip of your tongue yet
do not get too comfortable now and
think of me so lightly as a flower like that,
as i am not something your chipped fingertips can play with so casually.
do not attempt to touch at my stem as you won't be toying with
flower petals,
you'll only be playing with fire.
and oh sweet honey, fire isn't pretty sometimes.
