A lover's legacy & spring's dearly beloved;
Venus's fruit of fate,
Left to be reborn on earthy floors for mingling souls to admire.
Scarlet damsels flaunting both sides of love's dual soul:
Their figure: slender foreplay leading to soft bursts of red affection
Buds like bursting fireworks,
And every spark entrances hearts.
Their shadows, like midnight's motion towards unknown romance-
Even a shadow-rose reaches into emotion's vault,
And even in its debt to darkness radiance is what it breathes.
They appear as:
Beautiful boleros of unfading blaze and passion,
Petals like silky fire, thorns like broken hearts.
Elegant, twining stems twist in life's changing fashion,
Rooted in the bed of life, their blooms bear well the weight of love.
But-in truth, they are:
Virgin blooms, Virgin lovers, never have they known a kiss.
Virgin soil is where they sprout-a life without the verge of bliss-
Verging vines may take their time to climb & reach this Virgin's lips
But in the end, they halt at stem, & Virgin-Venus knows no kiss.
Untainted by lustful pursuits and pursuers.
Palming pure emotion within soft-swirled petal-pools-untouched by sin.
As it should be.
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First off, let all glory and honor go to God. Without Him, I would have no talent to share. These words, they are all I am and all I know to be. I bury my heart in every letter of the text, hoping only that reader is able to feel the piece--not just read it. The reader should be able to smell every autumn breeze, hear every mockingbird melody and experience every heartbeat described within the piece. I just aim to take the readers beyond the words, between the lines and outside of themselves.