His Wedding Gift

His Wedding Gift by Zingiber

"I'm poison," he said, "You don't want to know me."
But never a liar, never a cheat,
A charmer, a teaser, and light on his feet.

An artist, setting forms of the Goddess at play,
No less were living women his clay,
Shaping joys in their bodies with touch and with words.

She'd said, when we'd met, she was one of his birds,
Laughing again at his self-deprecations,
Reliving with pleasure his hot penetrations.

She and I promised ourselves to each other
Loyal together, yet open to lovers.
And the wedding gift he delivered while kneeling,
Was the blessing of fuck, in full sight of others.

While watching, I beamed, in-drinking their feelings.