A bougainvillea bush finds root deep in my throat
Wild and reaching, spreading and climbing
through my mouth, pressing for release
If I am cautious, I can gently part two lips
to allow only blossoms to spill forth
A riot of fuchsia flowers formed of folded tissue
Laid at your feet like an offering
But, tired, I forget my firm control
Over that wild weed of a tongue
And release, letting the rest pour forward
Jabbing branches, thousands of pricking briers
Burning beauty easier to admire from afar
than embrace
Wow! Such beautiful and unique imagery. 🙂 I like it.
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Thank you, Joss!
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Reblogged this on A Softer Shade of Red.
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