May 26

At the Butterfly Ball.

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Besotted am I by blonde maidens’ beauty.
My want is to caress her.
Fortuitous an occasion arose,
to hide behind a mask of an ogre.
Eager is my desire for this cutesy.

Quietly I played a masquerade of a boy she does love.
My breath I hold, my tongue quivers at the slightest touch.
Oh, what joy comes from within my loin that throbs at such fun.
Fireworks, stars, pain, my head duly stung.
The result of fell wood-baton struck from above.

Upon the floor I lay, empty my eyes do stare.
My love’s voice erratic as a Banshee’s wail dares.
Through my mask she saw oh God how she knows me.
Still, I lay; the crowd surrounds me, my intent laid bare.
Never again shall I kiss fair maiden for my love will duly thrash me.

Photo by DANNY G on Unsplash


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