My Desires by P.E. Cuberos

My desires are golden butterflies that I trap
in the cobwebs of my wisdom.

My desires,
blossom, ripen, swell, explode.
The seasons of my heart,
raspberry crests on the tips of my breasts

My desires,
sailors sailing to the magical cave,
in the depths of the rippling of the waves of my legs.

The singing of the sirens pulls and calls
to drop in and dive down
to deep and depth explore.

My desires
Wings that tickle with soft whispering tongues
My velvet-silk skin

Butterflies have a brief life
Raspberries rot
Sailors drown
grows old.


  1. The word choice and imagery in this piece is so rich and soothing, like sipping a full-bodied merlot on a rainy night. Such a solid command of language. Well, done.

  2. Beautiful work. You take the reader onto a sublime journey into fulfillment. I too use butterflies in my writing, and often in the same context as you do.

  3. Beautiful imagery and I love the ending.


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