Of Rim Jobs and Roses

Lithe limbs that only a dancer possesses,

A heart glowing with passion and fire,

Golden hair that flows and caresses,

Eyes alight with fervent desire;

By the light of sweet candles and embers

Your body calls me, it speaks and commands,

It yearns for my own, it remembers

The homage of lips and of hands.

Now I give you words supple and tender

That my tongue slowly and subtly will trace

Upon your flesh until you surrender

With exquisite bliss on your face.

And one day when the roses have faded,

You may feel a sweet tingle below.

It’s your rim, completely unaided,

Feeling that warm afterglow.