I was remembering peonies
that have so many petals
you bury your hands in them
like they were women
or great handfuls of silk clothes

or your warm manhood
in its warm nest of curls
that red secret of yours
that I remember with my hands
and shape with my hips

oh the smell of you so soft
like warm peonies in the summer sun
the unfurling of you before me
my eyes as hungry as hands
I could cry

oh as gentle as touching a flower
careful and gentle and tender
yes to press all against it
yes to flutter and to smoothe
yes, yes, please yes
please yes