He took her in his arms and tore …
 

He took her in his arms and tore

The buttons off her blouse, she

Didn’t seem to notice, doesn’t care

When she’s aroused. Her dress

Sense fell to nothing, there are lots

More in the shops, to his whispered,

‘God, I want you,’ she replied, ‘do

What you want.’
 

He took her in his arms and tore

The ribbons from her hair, tumbling

Tresses, sweet caresses, shaken

Hearts are stirred. Fingers, finding

Fingers, searching lips and hungry

Eyes, heated kisses, squeezing

Kisses, up and down her spine.
 

He took her in his arms and tore ...

Well, let’s not be precise, he tore

What you might think he tore, an

Embroidered work in white. He

Met with no resistance, no force

That might repel, he whispered,

‘God, I love you,’ she whispered,

‘I can tell.’

© Joseph G Dawson