a song for the sun
what lion lies,
o king of flame
upon your golden crown?
a diadem
of porcelain fangs
arrayed with peacock's down.
slip thy nimble
fingers there
beneath my lunar gown
that quickened silver
they'll ignite
and in its flames i'll drown.
o king of flame
upon your golden crown?
a diadem
of porcelain fangs
arrayed with peacock's down.
slip thy nimble
fingers there
beneath my lunar gown
that quickened silver
they'll ignite
and in its flames i'll drown.
|
4
favs |
1114 views
5 comments |
35 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
For my lover, and yours.
Other stories by M. F. Sullivan
Tags
Comments
You must
log in
to post comments.
Kinda Dickinsonian
Diadem and the antique syntax and diction coalesce. Nice.
Gorgeous word choice.
The most exquisitely erotic experience I've enjoyed all day, thus far. *
I like this very much.