Post by goldenmyst on Jul 9, 2022 0:06:01 GMT -6
African Innocence
We stroll in the shade of a baobab. She gathers a clump of the tree’s fruit already cracked from the fall. Then she giggles uproariously while bathing her bare body in the lemony custard of the fruit. She dances with nature’s dessert as though there is nowhere else that she belongs but bathed in the essence of the baobab because they are one in the same.
She exclaims, “Tree Me We.” Echoes of longing sing through my breast, a song of love. The oiled touch of her fingers is slick with pulpy fruit. She caresses my face in slow tease each stroke a blood red rose. Her coy smile blooms as the silken spell of her rose petal arms enfolds me. Caked in baobab fruit she welcomes me into her citrusy fragrance.
She sweeps into me like a spring breeze and shares the lemon meringue flavor on her lips in a kiss meant only for me. At that moment the iris of her eye blossoms like its namesake flower. Then I become the lemongrass in her cup of steam.
We stroll in the shade of a baobab. She gathers a clump of the tree’s fruit already cracked from the fall. Then she giggles uproariously while bathing her bare body in the lemony custard of the fruit. She dances with nature’s dessert as though there is nowhere else that she belongs but bathed in the essence of the baobab because they are one in the same.
She exclaims, “Tree Me We.” Echoes of longing sing through my breast, a song of love. The oiled touch of her fingers is slick with pulpy fruit. She caresses my face in slow tease each stroke a blood red rose. Her coy smile blooms as the silken spell of her rose petal arms enfolds me. Caked in baobab fruit she welcomes me into her citrusy fragrance.
She sweeps into me like a spring breeze and shares the lemon meringue flavor on her lips in a kiss meant only for me. At that moment the iris of her eye blossoms like its namesake flower. Then I become the lemongrass in her cup of steam.
