Aug. 30, 2014


The juice dribbles down my chin

From where I bite through the skin

The prick of flesh

And the rush of sweet bliss

The aftermath of a lovefest,

Of feeling the flesh first

The smooth curve against

The palm of my hand,

The hard place

Where the step detached,

Rough against hand and tongue

The wanting, the waiting

The need to have what is

Deep inside where my fingers

Cannot reach, nor my tongue

Until I break through

And let it rush over me,

My mouth unable to contain

All it has to offer

But I want it all,

And drink deep until

I drown in its sticky dripping

Like a honey bear

Consumed by what

He aches for most

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