Impaled
A swirling depth, those baby blues
Soft azure mists with golden hues
Now conjure sexy don'ts and do's
As midst your ire they run me thru ...
Impaled ...
A dazzling shine, those fingertips
Of scalding red to match your lips
With pointy fashion each one rips
My back, its flesh in tender strips ...
Impaled ...
The saucy swing your hips display
Each eye held captive to the sway
A coy come-hither game you play
And I, run through like callow clay ...
Impaled ...
I crave your scolds, I must admit
So hold me o'er love's burning pit
Confirming passion's flames are lit
Then turn me slow upon your spit ...
Impaled.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Impaled" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausin, Judge & Sponsor.
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