For you

His soul stills,
calm found in her warm embrace,
the hand rubbing sore muscles
“I love you”-
a song that ripples and roughens his throat.
“I love you” he repeats-
tearing the thorns from the rose,
his blood the sacrifice it demands
“For you, anything ma chérie,”
he whispers in her ear,
the flower tucking in her hair,
luscious mane that swallows his finger.
Silky threads that he fists when deep she goes,
his heart pierced, torn, gone.
“For you, anything mon chou.”

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