Cold Claws & Hot Hands

Whenever “when” turns N2 “then”

Then, coming 1st B the cold claws

Producing this pale Purple pigment

Like my lips, when N a swimming pool

Or those wildflowers, nearly N bloom &

Of course, Peacock’s pretty plum plumes

Well, ’til “off” became where our course

Went so, meaning I had 2 go inverse it

Altering all my angles of direction

Now feeling flushed with blood

These hot hands R radiating

His hot rod’s cherry red

Like Her luscious 2 lips

REMinding Me of tulips

Until withering white

Like my lucky lighter &

Both Her wedding dresses

While I Am serving as a sub

Nearby – by C level, but above

Also – carb-free if You ever eat Me

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