The Droplet

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The Droplet

The droplet merely hung there
Defying gravity it clung to your skin
Nestled between your breasts
And sparkling in the afternoon sun

I slid my hand up from its hold on your hips
Skimming over the sheen of perspiration
Before tracing the circumference of your nipple
The subsequent movement causing the droplet to run

Slowly yet determinedly it slipped lower
Travelling, almost inevitably, to the point where we were joined
But my finger interrupted its sojourn by scooping it up
And placing it in my mouth, that I may taste you again.


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