Diamond Funny you should ask. While you’ve been idly knitting, I went into the garden and gathered up roses for the queen. The cobblestone path directing me was slick and slimy and green from disuse of late and smelled of mid-evening rain. I was lead by the draft which swept me into its limbs and carried me to the bushes. There, I shot my arm into the abyss of green and yellow to detach a blossom as close to the base as possible. She squealed while clamped between my thumb and forefinger and I could have died right there. I crossed my digits behind my back, hoping to avoid retaliation for cutting a thing of beauty down in its prime. It’s funny, but I didn’t bleed when the thorns broke my skin. Rather, I came from the pain. I took the flora to Miss Monarch in hopes that they could somehow ease the sheet of pain covering her eyes. When I entered her chamber, she was sprawled out upon her bed, moaning quietly as she massaged her temples. When she saw my face and the package I was cradling her moist lips curled into a feline sort of grin. I winced and went over to her side, placing the blooms of a urine tint at her exposed, smooth thigh. She wrapped her hand around my wrist and pulled me down to her cushion of silk. Shifting positions, her aching head sought solace in my crotch, which cringed with discomfort. She reached down, following her contoured torso, and slipped her hand slyly under her gown. As her open palm re-emerged from the dark recesses of woman, where I dare not ever dwell, I saw the gift she bore for me and it was a diamond swollen so that it could have easily engulfed my boot. I smiled ever so politely and told her that the wind had changed and it was time for me to go. Running straight to you, I seek refuge in your arms, whose triceps curve like knowing smiles. Each breath I take lies as near to the next, my love, as I now lie near to you.
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