The Crimson Bloom

My favourite flower blooms in red,But it?s no thorny rose.Though nestled in a luscious bush,No green leaf around it grows.In your valley, it coyly hidesUntil a lens draws near,Its eryaman escort petals turning deeper pink,Dripping nectar, crystal sincan escort clear.The stream turns ruby with the moon,And etlik escort streaks alabaster thighs.Dipped therein your fingers paint,Patterns to mesmerise.Trails drawn to tempt thirsty tonguesIn intimate crimson ink,Leading to your iron honeyThat I only dream to drink. With thrusts deep down your throatWe'd bring each other bliss,Then join drooling, bloody, cummy lipsIn a rainbow kiss.O scarlet jewel! Pour forth your wine!Sate my sanguine hunt!It?s no thorny rose, my favourite flower;It?s your bloody cunt.