A blonde, terrifyingly beautiful in Chanel,
But just another Sequoia tall and
Fragile, as the forest ranger droned,
Prone to fire, disease and drought.
Prone then. A blonde with a great job,
Portrayed in light yet grasping
At straw colored straws as yellow
Brown as her pubis, imagining its
Feeling, she now must have touched,
Presiding – the queen to her court –
Knowing the throne is submissive
To her golden desires, but not quite
In the vein of king’s vain vein, no
Subverting better judgement for passion,
Blinding want trumps bent knee, kneeling
Yes kneeling and she sees the taunt
Larger muscles flex as if hardness could
Be so malleable to fill places longing.
Gods of yellow hair and golden skin,
Prone to disease, fire and drought.