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When Roses Don't Bloom

When Roses Don't Bloom

My body.

My body is an unopened rose.

A beautiful light pale pink rose.

In the futile soil.

I am almost dead.

Too much rain and not enough sunlight

Have almost wreaked their havoc on me.

It has been many seasons since I have bloomed.

Six to be exact.

Opened fully, felt the warmth of the sun.

No one has seen my naked body

No one has touched me deeply

No one has tasted my sweet nectar

No one has caressed me softly

Touched my tan skin, suckled my brown nipples

Looked at me with desire.

Touched me inside or outside.

Kissed these full lips

Tasted my lovely mouth

Kissed my soft delicate sensitive neck

Teased my thighs

Or lain with me or wanted me

Or desired me for so very long.

I forget the sensations.

What does that feel like again?

What do tongue or fingers feel like?

How does it feel?

I kind of can't remember or recall.

It feels as though no one has really loved me at all.

I'm just a ghost. An apparition.

The ground I live in is cold.

This body never blooms.

My rose never opens.

To show you it's beauty.

To share it's scent with you.

It just stays unopened by the other beautiful roses.

I long to open up.

To show my petals

For someone to see my beauty

To touch me, to please me

To enter me again.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2017 © MostPreciousLittle This story may not be reproduced in any manner, without the express permission of the author.

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