it seems
like a cliche
to say
she spread herself
for me
like a flower
in bloom
that i circled
her blossom
like a bee
in need of pollen

but
as i gently explored
every inch of her
with tongue
teeth
and fingers
i was far too busy
to think
of metaphors

her moans
of delight
would have
drowned them out
as she wrapped
her thighs
around me
leaving nothing
but the magnificence
of her
in my mind

lets pretend
her legs were at
four and eight
while my focus
was darting softly
around six
my hands
took firm hold
of one and eleven
gently pinching
as the peal
of bells sang