Tumble in the hay
Let’s hide away from the light of day
My fingers run through your flaxen hair
My other hand ends up over there
I go fish in your eyes- what a catch
You’re a fine dish, it’s no surprise that my mind’s between your thighs
Countless times I’ve denied myself dessert- the sweetness of your kiss
Though I’ve yet to taste it, it’s the flavor I miss
Though I’ve yet to be basted, I soak up your succulence
No matter how poor we’ve been,
You’ve always been my prince
Sage Burner Poetry 