R.I.P.
Under weathered daisies
allegedly buried, but mindfully present
an old-timer - well past his prime,
beneath a cold etched granite marker
in the gut-wrenching hope,
that she might willingly return
to recall the pleasant times at his soil,
as he oft did at hers
his unanswered love,
his perpetual embrace
He would caress her with his stone
hands, devoutly wishing for the white heat
of her caring reciprocity
Thither they dreamed,
though of him, she never grasped,
but only an altar of someone
she once touched, of what might've been--
And the unknowing was
the latent desire of both,
but the two blundered a chance,
though-- once upon a time?
Ergo, there, he abode silently
Fully unclothed, she tormented him at night
with sunny flowers in her graying hair
He would drink in her earthy vanilla skin
as she reclined next to him, cuckolding
Stephen Atkinson
Tue 16th Nov 2021 18:49
Beautiful with a sinister hint ( or is that just the way my mind works?) ?