The virgin boy beckons,
his topaz eyes yearn
with impish innocence,
budding masculinity-
amplified feminine grace.
Insouciant siren’s
songs flow
from his smile, his lips
breathe for you,
smoky, thorough.
With a pop
he comes undone
and pours
himself into you
and becomes
Elixir.
He exhales
and you are exhumed,
unforgotten,
bidden once more
to smile at doom.
Just in case you’re wondering- Glen is 18 years old, and at least 40 proof!
And he’s a sometime companion of mine on cold winter nights when his warmth and strength fill my body and I drift off to sleep afterwards with a taste of him lingering on my lips and in my mouth.
Sometimes ya just gotta spend some quality time with Glen
I have heard of Glen, but have yet to make his aquaintance. I hear he is smooth and sophisticated.
If English had been my first language, I would have liked to build poems as grand as that one above is. Besides that, I would have liked to know Glen as well.