(The Writer magazine word of the day, 28-day word challenge)
Spring, sprung, hung, sung a karaoke song in a bar as he watched me.
My flower, late hour, no power, his need, his want, resistance, distance lost, legs tight against aggression, fueled my depression.
Time gathering, A shift in scenes, same location, different guy, another night, another night, everything felt right.
Leaning back he spoke, I took him between my lips, I like the tips, his flower, pull back the petals to find the stem.
The flow to show love passing through, I consumed him, rested next to him, wanted more but out the door he went, I wanted more from him but one moment was all he gave me.
Flowers rising above the bushes, stiff against the wind.
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