your dessert plate

...

taste is not a sensation I crave tonight
or the feel of sweet foods
sticky until licked clean
by flesh and sugar loving tongues

close me, bind and blind if you chose
to make me your dessert plate
with drips of oven hot
syrup reduced apple and brown sugar
cinnamon scent burn into night imagination,
convince me

sting of heat
in small drops muscle twitch and eyebrow furrow
you are unconcerned with the context
of my short throat noise, disguised as protest-
reaction is reaction

requiring follow up of
heated drops alternated with
melting vanilla of this frozen treat
dropped from end of spoon
freeze matching heat
under tongue kiss relief

final course, spoons:
one from depth of frozen
and another from baking dish
touch skin with a snap
and high pitched bite of lip

unable to distinguish
which was the burn?
which was the freeze?
until you finally press the silver,
hard into soft abdomen tissue hard over
high arch below
begging you to
take it inside, inside!

as requested silverware and tongue temperature
the clank of rotating metal
muffled by inner flesh and low moan

sweet release paws at the door
wanting out
begging to be let out

...