Flambéed love letters
braised the heat,
slow burned me.
Tonight,
succulent strawberries
dipped in champagne,
our effervescent midnight feast.
Windows flung wide,
erotic shadows cast
by flirtatious moon
swoon ‘cross silken sheets.
Your form undulates
‘neath gossamer negligee,
my heart plunges deep.
D’amour delirium.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Victoria is our host, asking us to use the word “burn” or a form of the word, in a quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title). For a second and more humorous take on the word, go to my second post, Summer Treat.