The Two Bed Room... Poem by Merlin Mwaura

I have here a virgin in my room,
So pleasant she is bloom,
on my bed sit so cool.
Her eyes dart here an' there...
looking for a trap I swear,
to find none of course in here,
other than the ooze in my stare.
Look how she shies... aware,
While I hold her hand to compare
If am as pure as her hair.

She will leave soon,
I know she wants that too,
but she ask what I've planned,
'be honest' this darling starts,
'Tell me what you want' she taunts,
With simple flow in a quiet proach,
I part lips with a petal touch
Tongue corride in longing yearn,
It is begun....

Soft skin here, soft there...
where do I begin,
when do I stop.
This is no caress, no touching...
I am painting a picture in my mind,
I will never lose till I wind.
Like a clock to my time,
now, let us chime.

The air fill with human scent,
So beautiful, better than canned perfumes,
I lie on a bed of roses, and they kiss me back.
They utter little mourns, denying not my soul
heal this wounds in me, an' breath like a king.
This maid lower lip half between teeth,
Peering deep in me,
pulling deeper within,
watching me squirm and glow,
An' says 'I love you Bow'

I am a hunter, search my deer not in vain...
creep past the moulds form on beauty lain,
skew my form over so calm,
listen to the ground thunder with hooves,
Aiming in earnest, perfection in loom...
Release with grandeur, performance perfect!
Until I have now, a life possessed.

T'was the black beads, pairing towards me...
Bold in their glance,
soft in their touch,
Blood spilt, arrow embedd
Quiet supress, against zionous bed...
A love confess in a concert contest,
Two on a bed, in a room...
The two bed room.