Poetry Friday: The Word is MELT

Ninety Eight Point

A square of chocolate, dark and deep, smelling of flowery, hot earth...

Communion wafer, pale and thin, one breath sends it butterflyfluttering...

Tugs of crystal pink cotton candy, whispering “just one more one more”...

The folds of folds that you find, and taste open, between my thighs...

Melt
on
Your
fabulous
warm
tongue

Skin

Hey boy,
You wanna hide
in my skin
for a while?

Take a break
From that skin
You’re in
For a while?

Slip inside,
Wiggle down.

Yeah. S'nice.

Feel how soft
The world is?
Feel how heavy
The world is?

It’s okay by me
If you want to

Explore.

Run your hands here
There
Over and around
The landscape

Of

Breasts
And
Bottom
The curve of the neck
The hills of shoulders sloping
Back
To back the spine
Between

Thighs nestled
In the oven of sheets
Over

Hipbones
Down
To anxious
Folds
Waiting the touch of
fingers,

Your
Fingers.

Take a break from your skin, boy.

Slip out of yours
And into mine.