Camellias Poem by Nicholas Peter
Camellias
Your smile,
An automatic gunfire barrage,
A closed-lip firing squad,
Viet Cong ambush subtlety.
Your body,
a yellow Camellia,
preaching my name,
a call-to-arms demand.
Your sex,
is a syringe,
a prime naked injection,
an overdose of nighttime,
desire.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
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11/4/2025 12:05:06 AM # 1.0.0
