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If He's Apollo, You Must Be...

Eros was upon me,
prancing on my stomach with feet cloaked in slipped leather,
Tongue flicking between lips. Shiny and red
like a fresh fruit in the Garden of Eden.
Those small, glowing eyes,
Shining and silver like pearls from Yucat√°n's waters,
Sly and cunning, yet appropriate so
as they draw me in to another state of hypnosis.
Falling straight as a mighty oak in a lightning storm,
unable to stand to Mother Nature's worst moments;
Blond locks were those bolts
resting on my bare body, a pertinent tease.
The sea air is lovely--if this is where Venus were born
from the foam and shells and sand
Perhaps I could understand why she was the
Goddess of love and desire.