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Pieces of Me
Upon the Hunger and the Thirst

Upon the Hunger and the Thirst

“I want to dine in your garden tonight,

where your sweet vines thrive, flush and brew,”

he said with a leer of a smile and a gleam.

I could feel my bosom heave

as I tried to fathom what he could possibly mean

and all the while as I watched his eyes smile,

his intent I already knew.

“I want to dine in your field tonight

with your nourished vegetation,”

his lips wavered, and his eyes echoed a slight agitation.

“Your hedges,” he said, “are quiet groomed I can tell

and I’m sure your petals permeate with a slight clove smell.

You will taste of cocoa, smooth and satiny

deep to your sweet strawberry core.”

As he continued to speak,

the more appalled became the countenance that I wore.

“I want to dine in your bed tonight,”

he said taking a hold of my arm.

I sputtered, I shook and my body

was filled up to the brim with alarm.

I said, “Pardon me, sir, I must gather my feet.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I don’t understand, allow me to repeat.

Pardon me, sir, could there be something that I could do

to abate this fever and to alleviate

this veneration that has corrupted you?

Would it be

my lady like mannerisms that have drawn you in

or could it be

that my idiosyncrasies have been littered with sin?

Or could it be…”

Realization started to settle in,

his iniquitous eyes began to darken.

My body trembled, and I gave a squall,

“Kind sir, tell me,

do you fancy me a girl on the call?”

His lids bat, he gave his hat a tap,

he shrugged his shoulders and gave his coat sleeve a pat,

“No, milady,” he replied. “No, no and yet again no.

I merely strive to see how your petals thrive and grow,

to make your every leave curl

and with a stroke I’d unfurl your world,

and there in your garden,

your bud is all I wish to see,

this and to give you

a lifetime of pleasure for eternity.”

“My, my, kind sir,” my hand went to my lips

and I could feel my grove quiver between my hips.

“A little startled I am, your intent I must not miss.

Is what you offer a secret kiss?”

“A flame of desire burns within both of us.

A sudden change, lady, you have sparked my lust.

With flesh of such a lovely hue

I know your grove will yield firm honeydew.

I merely wish to stroke your petals

and to play on your vine,

as I am quite sure

you’d taste of the sweetest wine.”

“And after this, what will there be?

I can see in your eyes

a need to feed such a famine greed.

Will you ravage my garden,

tear down my walls and all that has hardened

with all your insanity and disgrace?

Could you lay my garden to waste?

What once flourished will now be barren.”

He heaved and grimaced, and went from one foot to another,

his face flushed much redder in color,

“Milady, cannot divine pleasure be what you see?

I have no need to do this to thee.

I am upon the hunger and the thirst.

Your avoidance of me will be my unending curse.

I long to sup the exotic fruit of your trade,

to act against such laws that have been made.

I will stroke your vine until it snaps

and then in turn I will sip your sweet sap.”

“I see, kind sir, but I must admit, this I must not endure.”

Then on that mark the clock struck three,

“I shall take my leave.

Pardon me, sir, I must gather my feet,

I have spoken soundly, so there is no need of repeat.”

The gentleman stepped to the side,

the flow of his body heat a telling guide

and as I walked hurriedly away

I could hear his words being carried my way,

“Upon the hunger, upon the thirst,

how could my evening get any worse?

Woe, how am I to ease my lust?

I could have seen her disquiet

if I had offered a thrust…”

My ears seemed to bleed with heat,

it was my ruby he had offered to eat.

From neck to ears my skin was set a flush.

What happens to a man with an unsated lust?