The Weapon of Tongues

 

 

He tasted of red hot spice

what Ares was made up of

a touch of malice

yet soft centered devotion

 

Crimson petals curled

along his lashes

spewed something cynical

like he was untouchable

 

I could feel him throughout

all seasons

count my fever off with

heat induced licks of his tongue

 

But who knew he was so vulnerable

so eager for pleasing

thirsty for tidal waves

begging

 

begging

 

I would hear him pleading

to be set free

from his curse

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s