You are beautiful, my love. So beautiful I can’t touch you, for I fear death.
To you and mine too.

Like Mountain Laurel, your innocent white-almost-pink petals beckon, but I fear the best way to enjoy you is to leave you be, so sickingly sweet is the honey crafted from you. It makes my blood run slow.

I would have you in my garden, but the slightest touch, the slightest whiff of your fragrance would make my heart stop.

Oh Belladonna, innocence becomes you.


2 thoughts on “Death by Beauty

  1. Real definition of death by beauty….Belladonna huh…….crazy u…has all the properties of a woman, beautiful, deadly, silent…then again women, silent…naaa

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