tagErotic PoetryLike the Maple

Like the Maple

bySeattleRain©

You turn the wooden tap
driven into the back
of my neck.

Your words loosen hemispheres,
and my mind melts
into puddles of poetry.

It is your touch
that causes my sap to flow.
Put aside the bucket, lover.

Taste the drips from the spout
as they rise. Soon it comes
more quickly than you can contain,

dripping down your chin and neck.
When the lost drops reach your chest
it will be my turn to play butterfly.

Tongue uncurls.

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bySeattleRain© 9 comments/ 2484 views/ 0 favorites

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