The cold snaps chilling me now
Remind me that you are
Luscious, hot as a spring roll
Just out of the wok
And I want to sink my
Into your lovely brown skin
Of crisp macho awesomeness
In a series of love-bites.
I want to feel your hot man-juices
Sear my parched tongue
With a demand so burningly good
That there is no other food.
My lips go dry as I look
At you lying there, insouciant,
Against a white backdrop,
Inviting as the blue-plate special,
Creating only one mouth-watering reality:
My appetite for the full-body experience
Of consuming you, for ingesting
All your burgeoning sprouts,
All the leafy goodness
That my tongue will peel back
Against the hungering O of my mouth
And my ululation of tonsils
With sinfully sensuous slowness
Until I get to the very meat of you.
I feel the sting of salt on my tastebuds,
The gushing juiciness on my palate,
Your fresh sweetness in my mind
And all I want to do is swallow you.
I am so very dazzled — six ways
To Sunday and then more beyond count —
By the saucy, savory warmth
Of you tickling all my secretly spicy senses,
Stroking me from lips to throat,
And from my curlylocks to my toes,
Filling that space
Where I swallow
Only you, delicious you:
All the sustenance I want.
Come to mama, honey.
My overweening hunger
Is beyond mere craving.
I could eat nothing else
For the rest of my life
And never feel it
So long as I am full of you.
Please don't ever ask me to go on a diet.
I just might swallow you for good.