your skin
is sun-dimpled
luscious silk that
when
dipped in petticoats
of cream
or chocolate
or brandy
becomes honeycomb
of sweetness
plucked-
i hear you
rinsing under water,
paring green leaves,
& quartering your heart
to vanilla-shaped florets-
readying your
siren song-
we turn to grinning fools
with butterfingers
popped-
tell me,
when the full moon
rises, what will
we do with all this
juice
stuck in our mouths-
red, of the purest kiss
Picture credit: here
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar hosted by Frank Hubeny ~ Today we are writing about ODES (Poems of praise). Pub doors open at 3 pm EST.
