Embossed

Photo by Lina Kivaka on Pexels.com
Embossed

Fire my desire,
to be wined and dined,
make passionate love,
blow my mind.

Your efforts
lack lustre,
buster,
don't pass muster.

I need
a roller coaster ride,
not a casual
bit on the side,
admiring the ceiling,
the paper that's peeling.

Ancient lincrusta,
stuffed with linseed oil
and wood flour,
bittersweet, sour,
as the words which you shower
on me baby.

Baby,
your dust,
I'm sick of your bluster,
buster.

10 Comments on “Embossed

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