Roses
She sent me roses and roused the muse
The scent of roses fills the air. Intoxicating incense of promise and passion. Rising, falling, like anxious breathing of a frightened fawn, startled from dawn grazing. Dark, deep red their color against blue sky, shrouded in white lace baby-breath and cloud. Each blossom soft, tender as a caress along your smooth inner thigh. With each breath, in gentle unceasing anticipation, your nipples rise and fall, like morning sun...