Perfum'ed and Pleasant

A Chained Bed

It's that sprite of perfume
–completely irresistible,
not to mention the lust we radiate;

the bed bounces her back, cradling
her, and he crawls on top, using
her hair as his camouflage – hiding
his hunting stripes.

Laughter like a short chiming rain.
Chains curl and bind like Lovers'
hands wrapping indecently tightly
and bringing the two far too close.

Oh Damn, not again.

And the lock clicks and
War and Lust are bound by Flame.

~Hammeh