A demon of love was sent to me
to light my lips on fire.
Tall and bold and white and gold,
swaying to lute and lyre.
Three weeks in tempest spent aroused
with the hustle of a mini hoard:
a sustained release compacted dose
of the magical Maxxxie Ford.
Though her blood runs warm and eyes aflame
and she loves the seductive art,
beneath the masque and within her breast
beats a tender, angel’s heart.
There are those that fade from memory,
and those that scar the mind.
But a gentler, softer, sexier brand
nevermore shall I find.
