. .LOST LOVE'S LAMENTATIONShe wore roses where the nipplesOf her breasts should be, and flowersFloated in her hair, and there were chocolatesStored do...n there, among the petalsOf her soft, pink femininity, waiting to blossom,Just for me, back then, when I was youngAnd had not seen the blooms that menOffer upon upright stems, and I wanted herTo love me, to flower, just for me, once,Upon a time, way back. . . then. . . . HEDONISTIC GIRLWe seek ourselves in metaphors,Never knowing who or what we. ”“Tis the season,” Father replied.Emily walked into the kitchen, her body still glistening with the perspiration she had kicked up on her run. Ryan smiled at her as she approached – his blue eyes were piercing – they always were. Her face beamed in response, her face growing red, or was that her run. She could feel it flush under his look. It was so hungry now – the way his eyes walked over her body and settled on her hips. She leaned to one side kicking her waist out as seductively as she. More

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