There it stands,
Waiting for me,
It calls my name.
Beckons me closer.
I touch it,
Hold it,
Turn it around...
I take a bite,
Roll it around,
I chew it,
With each motion,
I savor it.
I lick my lips,
Mourn in pleasure,
The saliva rolls down my lips,
The sounds of pleasure,
Escape my lips.
©thelma migue, 2009
I wonder what 'it' is :)
ReplyDeletewhatever you want it to be....whatever your mind perceives "it" to be......
ReplyDelete